Monsters and Men
by ShadowThorne
Summary: The Forests are a dangerous place, monsters and beasties hunt the night, but Ichigo never expected another monster, a legend and myth that shouldn't exist, to save him. Nor did he expect to fall for the creature. AU Grimm/Ichi/Shiro some violence
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This will probably be at least a few chapters long, not entirely sure yet, we'll see how it goes. And, yep, I will still be updating For the Reason of Temporary Insanity, it just might be a bit slower ^^; Just depends on which story decides it wants to be written the most while I'm working**

**Anyway, on to the story!  
>Enjoy~<br>**

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><p>Lean, lightly tanned arms stretched above his head, the young man gave a satisfied sigh at the pops and cracks that loosened up his spine. He had been sitting in this room since he had woken up a few hours ago. The moon was already high over head, when he had climbed from beneath warm sheets and padded down the stairs and through the hall to his study. Sleep seemed to be an elusive thing, and even with all his power, he was still unable to capture it.<p>

Fall was approaching and he would need to renew the seals around their home soon. The forest may have begun to wither and die with the cold weather, but it's larger, more dangerous creatures always came out during these harsh seasons. And he and his brother lived on the very edge of civilization, their small mansion located several miles into the forest that no other people dared enter; a very dangerous place for those not prepared.

Grabbing the list of items he would need, he shut his book, placing it back on it's shelf and turned out the lights to his study with a quick flick of his wrist. Most of the ingredients for the seal could be found in his stock room, located at the back of his study, but he was missing a few things, all of which he could collect from the forest around them. While he was out, he would stock up on whatever else he may need before the snow covered everything in a thick white crust in a few months. It never hurt to be at the ready.

The young man padded back up the stairs in the dark, approaching the bedroom door. His twin almost always came with him when he ventured into the forest, insistent on protecting him and watching out for him. The young man let a small, fond smile tilt his lips at the thought. They had always been close, ever since they were young.

He knew he was powerful enough to take care of himself, but his brother had been a little over protective ever since they had fled the village.

He and his twin had been born into a fairly wealthy, regular and happy family, growing up like normal little boys. When he and his brother were four, their mother had given birth to another set of twins, two healthy, little girls this time. Two sets of twins was strange, but the world worked in strange ways. The six of them were a very close, happy family.

As he and his brother grew older, it became apparent that he was different, something unusual, though not unheard of. After the discovery of what he was got out, the superstitious citizens had feared him, but he was just a child at the time and most uttered whispered comments under their breaths, not really doing any harm. He and his twin's parents were good people, and his brother and sisters seemed normal enough. They would raise him right and all would turn out just fine.

But after the accident had taken away his entire family; everyone he held dear...the young man had been looked at with suspicion and even hate. The villagers had barely tolerated his presence, once his pale twin had been discovered, and word had circulated about him raising his beloved brother...

His twin wasn't easy to hide. He looked different since he had been brought back and didn't pass as a normal citizen anymore.

The young man shivered at the memories of those dark times and pushed them to the far recesses of his mind. He still regretted that he only had the power to save his twin, linked as they had been by the bond created between twins, but things were better now. He lived in peace with his cherished brother and the villagers left them alone for the most part.

He pushed the bedroom door open and peered in at his sleeping twin, the smile returning to his features. He would let the man sleep, he looked to sweet and peaceful, wrapped in warm, navy blue blankets, his long, feathery locks unbound and splayed on the pillow about his snowy face. Gone from his features were his typical expressions; his customary scowl or his half crazed grin. In their place, pale lips were parted slightly, exhaling softly snoring breaths as his second half slept on.

The young man gently closed the door and made his way to the front door. Leaving a note for his twin, should the man wake up while he was gone, he grabbed his favored dagger from the counter, sheathing it in it's warded case at his hip and left.

••••••

A sleek shape lifted crystal blue eyes, dark nose twitching slightly as the creature tested the air. Large paws padded forward in swift silence, weaving between trees and thick underbrush, through the hushed night. His domain had been breached again. It was an increasing problem as of late. The leader of the Pack was unable to keep a leash on his mutts as prey became scarce in Lobos territory. The damn things, breeding like the mongrels they were, had begun out growing their food source, forcing the weaker members to enter his realm or face starvation.

_Well_, the beast thought to himself, _one way or another, they're ganna die. A little population control is in order. _ And he certainly didn't mind delivering that fate.

He held no sympathy for them. He never had, and he never would. The Pack leader and he were engaged in an age old rivalry. It was just how things were, how they worked. He could hardly even remember how it had started. He didn't hate the Lobos leader, in fact, out of all the mangy breed, the leader was the only one he could stand. But he hated the rest of the Pack.

The creature, black as the night it's self, slowed from his ground devouring pace as he neared the small group of mangy wretches. Three of the hulking figures circled around a smaller, two legged creature, their snarling and snapping almost drowning out the sounds the pitiful being made.

Sounds of chanted words reached his ears and something glinted in the dark, making one of the beasties take an evasive step backward, snarling before crowding in again.

The inky creature's nostrils flared, a familiar scent carried toward him from the glinting blade. Silver. The human was out numbered and out matched, though, and the aid of a dagger, silver or not, could be no match for the wolves. These Lycanthropes, while being on the smaller side, were still formidable beasts, armed with deadly claws and teeth. Their size alone made them worthy adversaries. They out weighed even him, their bulk giving them more strength, but they could never match his speed or cunning and, like all the others that dared brake the pact and enter his domain, they would fail to harm him and pay with their lives.

Vibrant, blue, feline eyes flashed in the night as the creature shattered the air with a rumbling growl. Three sets of yellow eyes spun to pin his sleek body with wary gazes that burned with the need to kill and eat, but even in their necessity driven state, the moon high over head, they knew he was a threat.

The air seemed to crackle with energy as the creature resurrected from his four legged form into the werepanther he truly was. Standing on hind legs, a long, slim, black tail wiped at the air in agitation and furry, so unlike the happy wagging associated with his adversaries. His ears lain flat in threat, massive, white fangs gleamed in the dark as the creature bared his teeth in a mock grin toward the intruders, a deep hiss issued from his feline throat.

The werewolves scrambled into a rough, battle ready "V" shape, prey forgotten as another predator showed it's self; one that would be more than a match. They yipped and growled nervously, saliva dripping from their scarred jaws, clawed hands twitching and torn ears laying flat.

The werepanther pounced as the mutts before him crouched, readying to spring at him in return. He was the quicker, lashing out with raking, hooked claws and recurved teeth. A wolf whimpered, maw shredded by a swipe of his taloned hand. Another powerful blow jarred it's head around, the snapping of bones ringing through the clearing as it's body crashed to the ground, cutting a furrow in the dirt as it slid to a twitching halt against a tree.

The second werewolf howled in rage and launched at him, giant hand grappling and snagging the werepanther's corded forearm. The feline snarled, driving with his powerful back legs, and slammed the mutt to the ground. He landed on top of it, an angry mass of slashing claws and heavy punches. The third monster rushed him, only to be thrown by a careless kick of the panther's hind leg, hurling the mutt against a near by tree. By the time the wolf below him had gone still, the third had regained it's feet and relinquished it's resurrection. It tucked it's canine tail between it's legs, fleeing into the night, back to the Pack's territory as quickly as it's four legs could carry it's damaged body.

Standing from his kill, the werepanther let his ears slowly swivel in curiosity toward the human that huddled on the ground before him. Blood dripped from his chin and he let his tongue run over his teeth and lips to collect the slightly bitter liquid. His keen vision flicked toward the silver blade the boy was brandishing, though the knife was held in a none threatening way as the human stared up at him with wide, brown eyes, a mixture of confusion, fear and awe swirling in their depths.

"La Pantera..." the words were whispered, uttered by the human. They sent a shiver down the werecat's spine, his lips stretching into something of a grin and his blue eyes widening slightly. It had been a long time since someone had referred to him as that. A long time since a human held such knowledge. He sniffed at the human, taking a step closer in curiosity.

His felicity was shattered as a pale figure crashed through the undergrowth, pulling to a halt by the human. Two shots split the air. The first grazed the feline's shoulder, causing the cat to hiss and bare his fangs, ears flattening against his skull again. The second shell lodged into the bicep muscle of his upper arm, digging deep and biting at bone. The werepanther's head fell back and he yowled as the burn from the silver bullet spread throughout his body. Clawing at the wound, his hands trembled and he watched as the blue-black fur gave way to golden, sun tanned and smooth skin. His howling raised in pitch and became a scream as his resurrection was forcibly striped from his being, leaving him shaking and naked on the ground, the burn of silver still coursing through his veins.

"N..No!" It was the human's voice. The werepanther, forced into his human form, searched for the source, brilliant blue eyes landing on two humans where only one had huddled before. The pale one had an arm wrapped protectively around the other human's shoulders, a gun held expertly in his left hand, still trained at him.

His legs kicked and dug furrows in the loose earth as a spasm of pain ripped through his body, making his vision blur around the edges and his back arch. The human with deep, brown eyes watched him in horror, his hand pushing the muzzle of a silver plated hand gun toward the ground.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" The pale copy of the first screamed in a watery, lilting voice. He raised his gun again, aiming for the creature writhing on the ground, those piercing blue eyes following his every move. "That thing's a monster, King, he was ganna kill ya!"

Ichigo grabbed at his twin's hand again, pushing the gun to point at the ground below them and away from the creature that writhed and panted on the ground. "Don't..." He whispered, eyes still latched onto the cat turned man. "It...he saved me..."

His twin spun, golden, inverted eyes wide. "Ya must be losin yer mind." He mumbled, looking back to the monster on the ground, a slight sneer plastered on his pale features. The screaming had died down, now leaving the man's throat in a keening, whining growl as he writhed and dug at the bullet wound. The trembling hand was covered in the creature's own blood as fingers dug through the flesh, searching out the burning silver. "better kill it before he gets tha' bullet out." Shiro growled out, struggling to lift his gun out of King's hands once more.

Ichigo wouldn't relent, he pushed the gun away and yelled at his brother. "Look, Shirosaki!" A lightly tanned hand raised and pointed toward something laying a few yards away. "He killed them..."

He knew Ichi meant business, the man never used his full name like that.

Shiro followed his master's pointing finger, golden eyes landing on the limp, torn form of a werewolf. "Wha..?" Shiro looked back to his King, then let his inverted eyes slide to the man on the ground. "He killed the wolves?" He felt more than saw as Ichigo shook his head in the affirmative. He hadn't gotten a very good look at the creature before he shot, just enough to see that it had been more cat than wolf, but Ichigo was the more knowledgeable in matters such as these. To the paler man, they were all monsters.

The werecat let out a huffing, hissing breath and a mangled, silver bullet thumped to the ground beside the beast. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face a little pale. The man lay still, the only thing to show that he lived was the raise and fall of his muscled chest as he took deep breaths. After a few minutes, a low growl left the man as he slowly rolled over, opening his eyes to watch them. He carefully brought himself to a kneeling position, hands held out to his sides in a none threatening way as he warily watched the gun held between the humans. Though the creature's hands trembled slightly, an angry fire lit the cool, blue eyes, not a trace of fear shown in their swirling depths. A shiver racked Shirosaki's spine as he stared at the man, everything about him screamed killer.

The boy with shining, orange hair, slowly stood to his full height, his wide, chocolate eyes not leaving the werecat's form. His copy followed, his movement's even more fluid and predatory than the first's. The creature let out a low growl, hackles raising as he watched lean muscles twitch readily under pale skin. The panther knew another predator when he saw one. He had an odd, almost impossible grace for a human and it put the werepanther on edge and intrigued him at the same time.

"Shiro..." Ichigo whispered, still watching the way the man before them moved, keeping a wary eye on both of them, but especially his brother. "Put your gun away." The orange head watched out of the corner of his eye as the albino gave him an incredulous look, but did as he was told. When the gun was holstered, the man stood to his full height and Ichigo let his eyes finally take in his full appearance. As an animal, he had been beautiful, but as a human...

The man was tall and stood completely naked, seemingly uncaring about his state of undress as he stared back at them. His brilliant, blue eyes were matched by his wild mane of blue hair and unique, blueish teal markings under his eyes. His skin was a sun kissed bronze, even in the dark. A body that was chiseled to a lean, muscular perfection showed his wild, active life style and his heritage. Even in his human form, his fluid grace and ease of movement exuded the confidence and agility of a feline.

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, to thank the being that stood before him, but was cut off as the man issued a low, animalistic growl. His head wiped to the side, blue eyes that almost glowed penetrating the night's darkness. His nostrils flared slightly and Ichigo tightened his grip on the hilt of his silver, ritual dagger, feeling the runes carved into it's handle against his palm.

Rustling drew Ichigo and Shiro's attention toward the bushes in the direction the naked man was staring. Before their eyes, the werecat's human like pupils began to shift into vertical slits within the blue irises. The man let out a pained grunt, almost sinking to one knee as he clutched at the wound in his arm, his pupils returning to their rounded state. Apprehension flashed through wild blue before a controlled, burning rage settled in it's place.

A lithe, dark form stepped into view, light, grey eyes flicking over to the humans before returning to the man in front of it. It's coat was a dark brown, fading to grayish tan around the forearms and lower legs, and darkening to a nearly black strip that ran down the center of it's back. This werewolf was different from the others that had cornered Ichigo. It's body size was larger, standing taller and probably weighing more, though it had a more lean muscular build, rather then the bulk the others had. The insistent, crazed need to kill was missing in it's eyes, replaced by a calm, almost lazy look.

A steady rumbling shook it's chest, but it was more of a thoughtful hum than a growl. The wolf tilted it's head slightly, regarding the straightening form of the man that stood between it and the humans.

The werecat peeled his lips back, revealing pearly white, overly sharp teeth. His pupils began to slit again before the man clenched his jaw and they returned back to the rounded, human looking shape, that burning anger still swimming in their depths.

A rumbling chuckle left the wolf's throat, startling both Ichigo and Shiro. Large head lowering slightly, it's nose twitched and the werecat turned man backed away and let out a hiss, hand smacking the top of the werewolf's snout in a quick, fluid motion.

The wolf shook it's head lightly and chuckled again. "Going to have to clean that soon, kitty." The rumbling baritone took the humans by surprise, a shocked gasp leaving Ichigo's mouth that drew the wolf's attention. He chuckled again, then turned back to the werecat. "If you want your resurrection back, anyway." The wolf mumbled, then his cloudy, grey eyes narrowed as he continued. "You killed three of my scouts."

The naked man sneered, lips curling into a cruel grin. "Two, other fled. I'm glad to hear it died." The man's deep voice was like rolling thunder, though it was slightly rough from disuse and cut off into quick, biting words.

The werewolf bared his teeth and the man took up a defensive crouch, looking formidable and capable, even in a human form. Shirosaki drew his gun and leveled it at the wolf, removing the safety. The creature glance over, taking in the shining gun, then looked back to the man's bleeding wound, nostrils flaring as he took in the distinctive smell of silver. It took a step back and opened it's jaws to speak.

The man cut him off. "broke our agreement." was all he said.

The wolf seemed to consider, then huffed out a tired yawn and nodded, turning to head into the forest. It paused, shooting the werecat a look, head cocked to the side slightly "Silver?" the word was too quiet for the humans to hear, but they made it out as they watched the wolf's lips move. The man it had addressed gave a quick nod, blue eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare. "Better hurry, then." The werewolf turned and darted away, disappearing into the night.

The alpha werewolf had no desire to tangle with the werecat, even if he couldn't resurrect at the moment. There was a good reason the cat had been able to hold onto his territory without the help of companions, he was a born killer, and a strong one at that, though most Deidades were. Grimmjow had lived a long time on his own, being one of the last of his breed. Starrk didn't plan to get on the beast's bad side, he would except his losses. The cat had been in the right after all, his scouts had entered Pantera grounds. Something that was forbidden under the penalty of a painful death, the executioner being no other than La Pantera himself.

The leader of Los Lobos loped easily through the trees, making his swift exit from feline territory, his stormy eyes scanning the forest about him. There were strays lurking about, looking for trouble, probably sensing the werepanther's current weakness. None of them would stand a chance against the veered cat, Grimmjow would kill them if they were unfortunate enough to meet the cat.

Keen nose testing the air, the werewolf lifted his muzzle and let out a long, mournful sounding cry.

••••••

The man stiffened, at the sound of drawn out, mournful howl, his blue eyes narrowing as he listened. He quickly turned and began trudging away from the two humans and into his forest.

"O..Oi!" The orange haired, young man shouted after the retreating creature. The man didn't falter or slow, his gate determined as he swiftly disappeared into the dark night, as silent as he had been while in panther form.

"Come on, King, lets get outta 'ere." Shirosaki mumbled at his side, gently tugging on his arm. He had no desire to run into any more beasties for the night. Ichigo nodded and turned to follow after his copy, scooping to pick up a rough, leather hide pouch. "Ya get wha' ya were lookin' for at least?"

Ichigo nodded. He had just finished collecting the last of the herbs and minerals he needed when the three wolves had found him. He sheathed the silver dagger at his hip, the tingling of the matching runes inked into the flesh of his wrists dying down as contact with the enchanted silver was lost. He gave a sigh and flung the bag over his shoulder. Shirosaki's pale hand slid down his forearm, black nailed fingers lacing with his own as the two made their way toward their shared abode at the very edge of the village, hand in hand.

••••••

The werecat sank to his knees on the stream's edge, dipping his hands below the cool surface. Raising his cleaned hands, he dug into the flesh of his arm again, searching for the stray traces of silver that were keeping him in this human form. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and quested out with his senses for the cursed metal, ignoring the blood that stained his hands anew and dripped into the water's edge.

His fingers closed around the last shard. Ripping it from the muscle of his arm, he dropped it into a jar contained the other pieces he had found still lodged in him. He sighed as he felt new flesh begin to knit the wound closed. New, slightly pink skin quickly grew to cover the damaged area with a fresh scar.

Grimmjow dipped his hands back into the stream, letting the cleansing waters strip his blood from his hands and arms. Straightening, he made his way back to the small clearing he had fought the wolves in and began searching.

He knew they had left, he had felt their departure as he had neared the stream. There was something odd about those two men. They were human, and yet, at the same time, not. Not the way he or the werewolves were though. One, the orange haired one, held magic close to him, while the pale one reeked of it. The flavor was one that the werecat had not encountered, but it permeated the pale human in a way Grimmjow couldn't put his finger on. He was positive the orange one was a caster, he wasn't sure what the pale man was just yet. It peaked his curiosity and he wanted to know more.

Locating what he had been looking for, the man bent and picked up the silver slug. Unlike the werewolves, the silver couldn't hurt him from a simple touch, only if it entered beneath his skin. As it was, touching the metal only gave off a slightly irritating burn. He dropped the mangled bullet into the glass jar with the other pieces and screwed the lid on.

••••••

An orange haired head dropped into lightly tanned hands as Ichigo let out a deep, tired sigh, his elbows propped on the top of an elaborately carved desk. A half dozen books lay open on the cool surface before him, another multitude of tomes piled on the floor beside him. His small, but well stocked library was a mess, and still he had found next to nothing that could help him. If his books didn't hold any answers, it was doubtful that any one had the answers he was looking for. He thought about making a trip to the local library in the village when the sun rose, but quickly dismissed it. Most of the villagers still didn't like him, unable to forgive or forget what he was and what he had done.

Ichigo sighed again, leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his shoulder length, unbound hair. "La Pantera..." he murmured quietly. He had only heard stories and legends, no two alike. And the way the cat had reacted when he whispered the title...

A snort startled him just as strong, yet gentle hands rested on his shoulders. Ichigo smiled and tilted his head to look up at his brother. Shiro had just re-shaved the sides and back of his head, leaving only the top long, pulled back into a white tail that hung to the bottom of his shoulder blades. It was different, but then, what about the near-albino wasn't? Ichigo liked it, it looked good on the man.

Shiro gave a slight grin at the look in his King's brown eyes and began massaging his master's tense shoulders. He'd dropped his bag of materials on the kitchen counter and locked himself away in his study the minute they had gotten home, spending hours digging through dusty books to chase a rumor. Too Shiro, it was simple, the creature they had encountered had simply been a feline version of a werewolf, but King seemed to think it was more. And the albino knew how Ichi worked, he wouldn't stop until he found what he was looking for, or something else distracted him.

Grinning, Shirosaki let his hands slid from Ichigo's shoulders to trace down a toned chest. "Ya've been in 'ere all night, King" He said in a quiet voice, delighting in the shiver that ran down the orange head's spine as his lips grazed the shell of his King's ear. Shiro flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin, making his way slowly down Ichigo's neck with soft kisses and light nips.

"I...I'm busy, Shiro..." Ichigo said, voice a little breathy as his twin continued his ministrations. The orange haired male unconsciously tilted his head a little, giving Shirosaki better access.

"Mmm..." Shiro hummed against his neck at the invitation. "Yer never too busy fer me, King..." He whispered, voice taking on a deeper, seductive tone. His warm breath fanned over Ichigo's neck and jaw, making the orange head's breath hitch.

Grabbing the back of his master's chair, Shiro drug it a few feet back, pulling Ichigo away from the desk. Slowly, he circled around to the front of the orange haired male and lowered himself to sit across denim clad thighs, straddling Ichigo. Smirking, he pulled his shirt over his head as he felt warm fingers dance beneath the edge of the cloth.

Ichigo let his hands slide up his twin's toned, milky abdomen, his eyes drinking in the alluring sight before him. He couldn't deny his brother what he wanted, had never been able to since he had brought the albino back all those years ago. Shirosaki had been right, Ichigo would never be too busy for him, not ever again.

His fingers threaded through ashen locks, pulling the elastic from his brother's hair as pale lips covered his own in a heated, demanding kiss. A blue tongue ran across his lip, seeking entrance. The privilege was quickly granted and Ichigo's own tongue was dominated as he moaned into Shiro's mouth.

The albino shifted, grinding against his King's growing erection and pulled away from the kiss. Gripping the bottom of Ichi's shirt, he lifted it from the man's body, tossing it to the floor to be forgotten with his own. Shiro stood, grabbing Ichigo's tattooed wrists and pulling him up as well. Pale arms wrapped tightly around his trim waist, lifting Ichigo from the ground.

The orange head wrapped his legs around his twins abdomen while the man spun around and guided them to his desk. Lowered until he was sitting on the edge, he was pulled into another soul searing kiss. Ichigo heard the albino sweep is arm across his work surface, several books thumping to the ground, before his bottom lip was sucked into Shiro's hot mouth.

The albino pulled out of the kiss, releasing his King's lip and worked the button to Ichigo's tight jeans. "S..Shiro..." Ichigo panted out in front of him. The sight of Ichi leaning back on the desk, hooded eyes dark and swirling with lust, his breaths coming in soft pants, had his dick stirring and becoming painfully hard. Making quick work of the button, he stepped back, yanking the material away before dropping his own pants and releasing his straining member.

"I know 'xactly what ya need, King..." He rumbled, voice dropping to a low, throaty baritone.

Ichigo shivered at the tone, letting out a quiet moan as he was gently pushed backward. His exposed neck was ravaged by a teasing tongue and nipping teeth, causing his breath to hitch as he desperately tried to hold in the sounds that wanted to pour from his parted, swollen lips. He trailed his hands across strong shoulders, up the back of Shiro's neck and delved them into silky, white hair as his twin continued teasing him with that sinful mouth.

He didn't realize his brother had already divested him of his boxers until a long finger was circling his entrance, hinting at the pleasure Ichigo knew was to come. He gasped, letting his head drop to the desk as said finger delved into his tight heat. "O...Oh, god..." He stuttered as a second finger was quickly added.

Shiro's hand pumped back and forth, preparing Ichigo as he enjoyed the sounds King made. Tight walls teasing his fingers, he quickly yanked his own boxers off with his free hand. Finally, the sound he had been waiting for reached his ears.

"M...more..." Ichigo ground out, fingers in a white knuckled grip on the edge of the desk he was laying on. "Please... Shiro..." He gasped and whined a little when long fingers were pulled out of him.

The paler twin leaned forward, kissing and nipping at Ichigo's chest, laving his tongue over a pert nipple as he lined himself up. Biting down slightly, he pushed the head of his cock through the ring of tight muscle, pausing briefly to enjoy the tight heat before slowly driving the rest of the way in, only stopping once fully sheathed inside his master.

Ichigo threw his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut, and arched his back at the mix of pain and pleasure as Shirosaki's heavy member came to a rest inside him.

"D..damn, King..." Shiro panted above him in a watery, lilting voice. Pale hands trailed down his tanned abdomen before coming to a rest on Ichigo's hips.

After a few moments of adjusting, the orange head rocked his hips, moaning with need, unable to get past the overwhelming sensations to form full thoughts. He needed more, needed his twin to start moving.

Shiro let out an aroused groan when Ichigo began rocking his hips below him, impaling himself on Shiro's cock, face flushed and eyes dark. He tightened his grip and pulled out slowly, almost completely leaving Ichi's tight entrance, before snapping his hips forward in one, fluid motion. Ichigo cried out, his fingers finding purchase on Shirosaki's strong, upper arms.

Pale hips snapped forward again and Ichigo wrapped his long legs around his twin's middle. He began thrusting back, meeting Shiro's quickening pace. His mind a muddled mess of pleasure, he couldn't have held back the moans that escaped his throat even if he had tried.

With another thrust, everything pulsed white and the growing heat in Ichi's gut became a burning fire. "T...There, Shiro!" He cried out his twin's name, back arching and legs tightening in their hold around Shirosaki's toned abdomen.

Shiro leaned forward slightly, his grip on Ichi's slim hips surly leaving bruises as he thrust quicker and harder into the man below him. "Yer so...tight..." He panted out, flipping his head a little to toss his long hair out of his face. He wanted to see the pleasure written all over King's flushed features.

"So...Nhnn...s..so close..." Ichigo moaned out, his grip loosening on his brother's arms in favor of dragging blunt nails down the backs of those lean limbs.

Shiro growled above him. "Cum fer me, King" His voice was deep and quiet but easily heard. He wrapped long, expert fingers around Ichigo's neglected shaft, pumping in time to his brutal pace. He could feel his own impeding release and knew he wouldn't hold out for much longer, especially with the noises that exude from Ichigo's swollen, pink lips.

Ichigo gasped, the burning heat becoming an explosive pressure. "Sh...Shiro-!" He reached his peak, coating his twin's hand and their bellies in sticky fluid.

Above him, Shiro let out a long moan as tight heat constricted around his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He collapsed with a sigh, wrapping his arms around King's middle and trailed his hot, wet tongue up the side of Ichigo's neck as they came down from their pleasure induced high.

••••••

The forest was oddly silent. No birds sang to the approaching dawn. The small group of deer that normally fed at this hour in a glade near by had ran as the wind shifted, giving them a whiff of the predator lurking in the shadowed trees. The frogs at the edge of the stream were quiet. Not even the stray wolves dared utter a sound that might shatter the stilled predawn.

Crystalline, blue eyes trained on the swirling pieces of the mangled, silver bullet where they slid about in slow, languid circles at the bottom of the glass jar.

The werepanther's black tail flicked about lazily below the branch he was perched on, lithe, muscular body stretched out to lean back against the thick trunk of a tall tree in the middle of his territory. He continued to slowly rotate the jar, razor like claws clicking softly off the glass, as his mind wandered to the humans he had encountered.

They hadn't been the typical, run of the mill humans. Nor were they Hunters, at least he didn't think so. Sure, they had silver weapons, but then, most people from the near by villages knew of the werewolves and their weakness to the cursed metal.

Casters weren't all that rare, though they had seemed a dying breed amongst humans as of late. He hadn't run across a strong one in a while and the orange haired man had recognized him for what he was. It was slightly disconcerting. He had enjoyed his solitude and wanted to keep it that way. He didn't need a village of humans hunting after him again, destroying his forest and pissing him off.

The pale man had peaked his curiosity the most, however. There was something that he couldn't put his finger on. It was there, nagging in the back of his mind. The pale man had been predatory, tamed, yet untamed. He moved with a skilled grace, the finesse of a fellow killer. And those eyes...gold swam in a sea of black sclera, lit as if by their own light. He had seen the possessive anger swirl in their depths, even as they held a calculating gaze while regarding him.

The flavor of magic about that one had been of a kind normally off limits to the human race, nearly impossible for them to obtain and harness even harder for them to control. Forbidden and feared by those who weren't wielders, children were usually left to die once it was discovered they had such a tainted gift.

Which brought him back to the orange haired male.

Grimmjow's thoughts circled round, like the slivers of silver in the small, glass jar. He looked at it's contents, but his otherworldly, blue eyes held a far away look, the silver slug barely registering to his senses. The pieces clinked mutedly from inside the container as he continued to idly rotate it between his fingers.

Intriguing; those two men.

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><p><strong>AN: Well? What do you guys think? Worth continuing? Please let me know!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A big Thanks to all the great reviews for the first chapter! And to everyone who faved/ added the story to their list! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, I'm writing it and my other story at the same time ^^;**

**Anyway~ Enjoy!  
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><p>Ichigo huffed out a sigh, the noise sounding much louder in the quiet of the room around him. He and Shiro had made a trip to town, needing to pick up a few things. He took full advantage of the trip and rationalized that he might as well make a stop at the library while they were there. It had been a couple weeks since their encounter with the wolves and the man in the Forest, but he had yet to rid his mind of vivid, expressive eyes.<p>

The orange haired man wanted to walk out into the Forest and search out the creature, but, as his brother had pointed out, he couldn't be sure that the werecat wouldn't attack him this time. Or that the werewolves wouldn't be around again, or any host of other creatures, for that matter. It was just too dangerous, especially this time of year.

Standing up, Ichigo walked around the aisle of shelving he had been pouring through for almost an hour and headed deeper into the small, public library.

So far, all he had been able to find on the matter were a few old fairy tails about werepanthers, only one of them had mentioned La Pantera. All the page had said was that La Pantera was an ancient myth, that it was commonly told to be male in the tales, even though the word was feminine. A lot of good that did him, it was knowledge he already possessed.

Brushing orange locks from his face, he scanned the shelving, taking note of how dusty and worn most of the tomes in this section were. No one in this village cared to go through these books, most probably didn't even know they had a mythology section in the back of the library. Half the citizens even refused to believe in the werewolves and other creatures that lurked the Forest, no matter the evidence.

His fingertips brushed past a title that intrigued him. Intricate, silver script was inlayed on the leather bind, the edges faded and worn, leaving only indentations of the printing behind. The words were in a different language, and though he couldn't make out what it said, it had the same sound as the topic he was hoping to find.

Lightly tanned fingers curled around the top edge of the book, pulling it from the shelf. Ichigo plopped down on the floor, his back to the shelf, and opened the cover in his lap. Flipping the pages to what he assumed to be the glossary, he trailed his fingers lightly down the thick, vellum page, scanning the chapters and contents of the book. A little over half way through the second column, he halted his finger just below what he was looking for; _La Pantera_. Quickly glancing at the page number, Ichigo dove into the book, easily finding the correct chapter.

Scanning through the paragraphs, he found very little that he could read. Most of it was in the same language as the title, but he was able to pick up on enough of it to hold his attention. He studied a few of the drawings in the book, standing from his spot on the floor as he did so.

Ichigo, nose still buried in the book, made his way back toward the front of the library, ignoring the whispers and murmurs from the small group of visitors that were seated in plush chairs arranged around a coffee table. He knew the hushed conversation to be about him, but had grown used to the unwanted attention by now. It had been over a decade since the accident, and almost exactly ten years since he had brought back Shiro, yet the people of the village couldn't let the rumors and stories die, couldn't let he and his brother live in peace.

Reaching the front desk, a woman with strawberry blond hair, held back with a couple of blue, flower shaped clips, smiled brightly at him.

Inoue Orihime was one of the few citizens of the little village that didn't treat him with suspicion and malice. She was a little annoying, and way to happy, but she was nice enough and always had others best interests at heart. Though she was a bit wary of him, she was also one of the few that treated his brother like a human, which made her ok in Ichigo's book. Too many treated Shiro like some sort of monster, like the same creatures that pillaged the village and killed trespassers of the Forest.

Inoue's excited trill snapped him back to reality. "Hello, Kurosaki, Sir! I haven't seen you around town much lately." She stated with a smile.

Ichigo smiled politely back at her. "Yeah, you know how things are around here." He said, sounding a little awkward, and placed the book on the counter with a thump, drawing her attention to it and effectively shifting the conversation. The slightly ditzy woman never understood that the rest of the village didn't like him and his brother, and he had long since tired of explaining it to her.

"Doing some research?" the woman asked, picking up the book and pulling a paper out of a drawer in her desk. She glanced down at the title. "Mitos y Leyendas." She read out loud. "I didn't know you could read Spanish."

"Uhh... I can't really, just a few words. Do you know it?" He asked, hoping the woman could help him translate. Ichigo shifted his weight to his left foot as whispers erupted anew from the small group of people sitting around the coffee table.

Standing from her seat behind the desk, Inoue handed him the paper to fill out and hummed a bit. "Hmm... No, but there's a Spanish dictionary around here somewhere, you can borrow that as well if you like." She said with a cheerful smile as she rounded the desk and headed toward a different section of the library.

It only took her a few moments to locate the book. Orihime returned, stacking it on top of the larger, leather bound book and took the filled out form from Ichigo. She added the dictionary's title to his list and filed the sheet away. "Neither of these books are checked out very often, so I'm not giving you a time limit" She said, looking up at him with a friendly smile. "And I know you'll take good care of them, so just return them whenever your done."

Ichigo grabbed up his small stack of books, hugging them to his chest. He gave the girl a small smile, thanking her before turning to leave, brushing off the stares that followed him.

Exiting the large, double doors of the library, he gave a relieved sigh to see a hooded figure in a dark cloak sitting on one of the wooden benches outside.

His arms were stretched out, thrown across the back of the bench, long, lean legs stretched out in front of him. The figure's head was lowered, hood pulled forward to hide his face, but there was no mistaking him for anyone else. The orange haired male had half expected Shiro to run off or attempt to procure the rest of their needed items on his own. His pale copy usually got himself into trouble when he was left to his own devises in the town.

As if hearing his twin's thoughts, Shirosaki stood, stretching his pale arms above his head for a moment before turning to Ichigo. "Tch. Took ya long enough." He mumbled, tongue poking out to toy with a very new silver hoop that rested in the center of his bottom lip.

Ichigo grimaced slightly, noticing the slightly irritated looking skin directly around the piercing. He was positive Shiro hadn't had his lip pierced yesterday. "Did you do that while sitting here?" He questioned, leaning forward a bit to get a closer look.

"Got bored." Shiro said with a shrug, pale hands tugging the hood to his cloak back in place. Most people still recognized him as Ichi's other half, but they seemed to run into fewer confrontations when his ghostly features were hidden, and for King's sake, he did his best to keep his appearance from passersby.

The orange haired man made a face at his brother and reached out to grab the albino's hand. "Lets hurry and finish up so we can get outta here." Ichigo tugged Shiro down the stairs of the library and into the street.

••••••

Dark nostrils flared as the feline took in the scents that still lingered around the little clearing. He curled his lip a bit, the tip of a white fang peeking out on one side as the smell of decaying wolf meat assaulted his senses. Natural predators and scavengers wouldn't touch a werewolf carcass, slowing the process by which the earth usually disposed of a body. They would still be here when the first snows hit.

"Should'a made Starrk clean this shit up." He grumbled to himself, stepping over a withered body. He looked down and bared his teeth in a mocking gesture at the dead mutt, tail flicking back and forth in irritated, jerking movements.

A few, quick steps took him to the edge of the glade. Stepping back into the forest, the werepanther lifted his snout to test the air again. A slight smile curled onto black lips as he detected what he was looking for through the smell of decay and rot. The two humans had such a distinct scent, it would be impossible for him to miss it.

He clutched the small jar tightly in left hand, taking off at a long, loping pace. Grimmjow let his blue eyes and keen ears swivel about, monitoring the forest around him as he followed the trail.

Lean, feline legs propelled him through the thick underbrush as silently as the morning breeze, long strides devouring miles in mere minutes. He jumped a small stream, just a trickle of water really, an off shoot from the larger one that ran through the middle of his territory.

Landing in a ready crouch on the other side, the werecat paused, scanning the forest as he did so. The smell of the humans had grown thicker, another scent now evident mingled with it in the air. Lifting his keen nose, Grimmjow let out a deep rumbling. It was a familiar scent, the tell tale spicy smell of magic. More specifically, it was the same, unique kind that the two humans seemed to use, the kind that permeated the pale one and originally peaked his curiosity. As he took in the scent, he realized what was off about it. It still had the spicy, tingling smell of most magic, but something else mingled with it, tainted it. Something cold.

Padding forward on silent feet, the werepanther stalked to a clearing in the forest. This one was much larger than the one he had first scene the humans in, the small glade with the dead wolves. Parting the branches around him, the feline took in the sight before him as he stepped through the tree line.

Dominating the center was a large building. The house stood three stories tall, and Grimmjow guessed there to be a basement as well. The walls were made of a heavy, grey stone, making it look like a small castle rather than a house for two.

An out building was attached to one side, probably the stable and garage, though he didn't know if these two would own a vehicle. A set of grey, shot with purple, marble stairs led to a wrap around porch and the front door. He wandered what two, young men could possibly need so much space for.

Taking another step forward, only about thirty meters from the building now, Grimmjow continued to study the large home and the surrounding area. There were no obvious fences or defense systems set up. No guards rushed to greet him, nor did the sounds of barking, attack dogs shatter the silence. He continued to take cautious, silent steps toward the building, all the while looking and listening for any signs that he had been noticed.

The feline jumped back, letting out an angry hiss as the air crackled with energy around him. The orange haired male was a Caster, he should have known it would be a magical seal.

Either it didn't work properly, or the two men weren't home. He waited for the rush of people, alarms, even just the pale man and his gun, but nothing happened.

The scent of the resounding magical vibrations had him thinking the later. These two seemed to know what they were doing. He hardly believed that a seal strong enough to harm him didn't work properly.

Having no desire to test the strength of the barrier, Grimmjow crouched down, muscles rippling beneath shinning, black fur, and contemplated what to do. Reaching a clawed hand out in front of him, the feline ran his nails across the invisible barrier. He watched the rippling effect of his motions, quiet popping sounds reaching his ears.

When nothing else happened, he pressed his palm flat against the surface, pushing at the magical seal. Hissing a breath through elongated fangs, he jerked his hand away when electricity shot through his arm, reaching his shoulder in an unpleasant, tingling wave. The Caster really was a strong one. It was increasingly rare to find a gifted human strong enough to produce something magical that could even give him pause, let alone halt him all together.

Growling, he stood and paced the edge for a few minutes, trying to figure a way around it. Grimmjow circled the house, checking the barrier in random locations. Every place he touched resulted in the same electrical repulsion, but he wasn't one to give up so easily. The humans had to be able to get through their barrier somehow, and he couldn't imagine the Caster removing and replacing the seal every time they came and went.

Smiling to himself, the werepanther released his resurrection to veer into his human body. Sleek, blue black fur gave way to sun kissed, golden skin. The once panther stretched muscled arms over his head, rising to his toes as he made his way around the barrier, tanned fingers still wrapped around the little, glass jar. Nearing the side that was closest to the house, he ran a tanned hand through unruly, blue locks before reaching tentatively toward the seal.

The air rippled slightly around his out stretched fingers, but a faint tingling sensation in his finger tips was all that assaulted him, nothing like the painful shock while in his other form. A released a held breath, smirk stretched across his face as he took a step forward, pushing through the barrier with little resistance. Reaching the other end of the invisible fence, a shiver racked his spine as he left the magically charged section.

Padding carefully and quietly, he crossed the grassy yard. The sun warmed, marble steps were slightly rough against his bare feet, but, being used to the forest floor, he hardly noticed as he reached the door. Pressing against the heavy, wooden portal, he listened to the slight groan as the wood protested against the lock.

Growling, Grimmjow stepped back and contemplated breaking the door down. That would be the quickest, easiest route, and he just about gave in to the temptation. But that would alert the humans to his presence much quicker than he wanted. He enjoyed a show of brute strength and force every now and then, but he could also be silent and stealthy when it was called for.

Thinking better of destroying the door, he gave another frustrated growl and walked around the porch to the first window he came across.

The weather was still mild and the window was cracked open a couple inches to let the cool air from the night before in. Pulling the screen from it's place, he set it down on the wooden planks of the porch. Setting the jar next to it, he curled long fingers around the bottom edge of the window, giving a light, upward push. The window slid up another inch before halting, jammed on the window locks meant to keep it from opening far enough for someone to slip in.

Smiling to himself, Grimmjow shoved upward, the muscles in his arms flexing. The plastic, peg like locks creaked at the added pressure before snapping. The window flew open to bang against the top sill, shuddering slightly in it's frame.

The panther-turned man gave a devilish smirk and bent to retrieve the glass jar, the contents clinking together as he gave it a twirl. He stuck his head through the opened window, peeking around to be sure that no one was around. After a few moments of taking in the sounds, smells and layout of the room around him, Grimmjow climbed through. Landing with a quiet thump on the dark, tiled floor, the man crouched and continued listening to the sounds of the house. Nothing out of place met his senses.

He had entered into a sitting room of sorts, several high backed, plush, wine colored chairs were arranged to face a large, intricate fire place made from rough, blackened stone and wrought iron. The mantle above the fire place held several candles of different colors and sizes, some ornamental, others for rituals. In the center, a large, bleached werewolf scull smiled back at him.

The center of the room was dominated by a soft, light colored rug, off setting the deep coloring of the tile around the room. To his left, a door way opened up into what looked like a winding hall way. Directly in front of him was another door, this one more elaborately decorated. Intricately carved trim framed the portal, the high, arching style nearly reaching the ceiling. A double hinged, swinging door of a reddish hue blocked his view of the room on the other side.

Grimmjow picked his way through the furniture, toward the arched door way on the other side of the large room. Pushing the door with his fingertips, he opened it and stepped through. The door swung on it's hinges a few times before coming to a rest as he peered around the new room. A kitchen greeted him, a stainless steel cooking range and sink on one side, island with stools on the other. Another door way opened up back into the hall way.

The blue haired man sniffed the air a bit before exiting the room into the hallway. The walls were lined with photos, most rested in plain, black frames against the light colored walls. A few had more elaborate frames, these ones held pictures of many people while the others were mostly of the two humans he had seen in the forest. Grimmjow studied the images and surmised them to family members and friends, he also noted that the pale one seemed to have a bit more color in the older photos, where the boys were younger.

An elaborate, golden hued frame caught his attention, a few feet down the hall. It was the largest of the pictures and showed the two humans, mere children at the time, surrounded by an older man and woman, two small, twin girls clutching their older brothers' hands. The sky in the background was slightly over cast, but the smiles on everyone's faces brightened the mood of the picture. Both of the young men in the photo had bright, fiery orange hair, obviously inherited from the mother, and Grimmjow wondered why only one of them sported the vibrant color now.

As the werepanther continued studying the pictures on the walls, the faint click of a latch reached his keen ears. Head whipping around toward the sound, Grimmjow perked his ears and listened intently. The front door could be heard creaking open, nearly soundlessly.

"Think yer crazy, King." A watery voice broke the quiet and sent Grimmjow scurrying out of the hall way, back into the kitchen. He listened to the voices approaching. It was obvious they didn't know he was there and he silently slipped into the room he had originally entered. He put his hand to the door, halting it's motion and moved to crouch beside the door way that lead to the hall, using the wall as cover. He watched the men walk past the door way.

"You're probably right" The reply was mumbled, but a smile was evident in the voice. The were panther listened as the two humans entered the kitchen area, opening a few cupboards and drawers as they shuffled around the room.

Grimmjow took this as his cue to leave, placing the glass jar above the fire place, amongst the candles, he padded back to the opened window and silently climbed out. Once outside, he grabbed the bottom edge of the window and pulled it shut behind him, leaving it just a few inches open. Placing the screen back against the window, he took off across the yard, careful to avoid the side of the house that would leave him visible to the men in their kitchen.

He veered back into his panther form once on the other side of the barrier and was gone, a sly smile marring his feline features.

••••••

Ichigo laughed as his brother continued ranting about the "stupidity of civilization". The pale man had a point, but it was humorous all the same. Shiro was used to how the village citizens treated him, but it never failed to anger the man.

As they were leaving town, Shiro had unwittingly scared a young girl. The kid had been staring at him and when he turned, she was graced with a better view of his features.

Of course, when she cowered in her mother's arms and buried her face, the mother had gotten angry and offended. The woman had started berating them for scaring her little girl, unrationally angry and more than likely recognizing who the two men were, already not liking them. Shirosaki had solved the problem by dropping his hood back, shaking his ashen hair out a bit and giving the woman a sneering smile, gold on black eyes shining, that sent her scurrying away. He had refused to raise the hood again, and they left the village, dozens of people glaring and whispering behind them.

He had been fuming ever since. Ichigo felt bad for his twin sometimes. At least he could pass as normal, Shiro would never be able to and so he didn't bother to try. Shirosaki was stronger than he was, in Ichigo's mind, to be able to deal with that sort of treatment and still embrace who and what he was.

The orange head dropped a paper bag onto the tiled floor beside the island in their kitchen area. Setting another bag on the counter, he grabbed his borrowed books from under the crook of his arm and made to set them next to the bag.

He paused, his arm out stretched, books still in hand. He took a sharp intake of air, a small gasp falling from his lips. His orange brows furrowed into a frown as he concentrated on what had snagged at his awareness, small ripples of magic playing in his mind.

His pale copy turned away from an opened cupboard to look at him. "Wha's wrong, King?" He asked, lifting a snowy brow as he observed his master and companion, his rant and anger forgotten.

Ichigo shook his head lightly and rested the books on the counter. "Nothing." He mumbled, stepping toward the bag. He reached in, digging around a little and started pulling it's contents out to lay on the counter. "Just felt like something disturbed the barrier for a second."

Shirosaki leaned over the sink a bit and pulled the airy curtains away from the small window, peering though and out into the surrounding yard and forest edge.

"It was on the other side of the house, but its gone now." Ichigo explained, watching as his brother dropped his cloak to the ground in a whoosh of fabric and pulled is silver plated gun from it's holster. "I really don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Well, I'm ganna check anyway." The paler of the two said, stepping out of the room, his heavy, leather boots thudding down the hall.

Shiro had always been the more paranoid of the two, Ichigo watched him leave the room. Sighing to himself, he continued the task before him and started putting things away.

He returned several minutes later, holstering his gun under his arm. Leaning against the counter, Shiro watched King sort things out for a moment before bending to pick up his forgotten cloak and drape it over one of the stools at the island bar.

"Find anything?" Ichi asked, not looking from his task of putting things away properly.

"Nah" Was Shiro's short reply.

Ichigo shrugged. "It was rather faint, kind of like a person's."

Shiro gave a hum of acknowledgement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Comin' or goin'?"

The orange haired man paused, thinking and debating a bit. It was always a little tough to tell when it was something so faint. "Leaving, I'm fairly sure." He answered, closing a cupboard and heading toward the sitting room to relax a bit. "Probably just some nosey kid."

"Kids lucky I didn't catch 'im then." Shiro huffed out under his breath, following after his twin. He grabbed the books off the counter as he went, knowing Ichigo would stand up as soon as he sat down and got comfortable to come get them anyway.

He walked through the swinging door just as Ichi sat in his favorite chair. His King leaned back in the plush, richly colored chair, giving a relaxed sigh. Shiro dropped the books in his lap as he took his seat to the right of the orange haired man. Smiling at the surprised grunt from the man next to him, he leaned forward and began unbuckling his black, all terrain boots. They reached to the middle of his calf and were great for out in the Forest, the thick leather making them nearly water proof as well as incredibly sturdy, but still light enough as to not hinder his movement or speed. They had four buckles running up the outside of each boot, no laces to mess with, which made them much quicker to put on or take off.

Dropping the boots to the floor with a dull thunk, Shiro leaned back in his chair, arms out stretched and resting on the arm rests. Beside him, Ichigo was already lost in his books. The older, leather bound one resting, opened, in his lap while he flipped pages in the smaller book.

The albino grunted and stood from his chair, crossing the room to exit into the hall way. Turning left, he made is way further into their large house. At the very end of the hall, he pushed the door to the Master's study and crossed the dark room to the desk. Using the light from the opened door, Shiro rifled through the drawers until he found what he had been looking for. Grabbing up the note book and pen, he left the study, closing the door behind him and went back to the sitting room he had left Ichigo in. He would be surprised if the orange head even noticed his departure.

Shaking his head a bit, a small, crooked grin splitting his face, the pale man came to a halt in front of Ichigo. Orange brows were pulled together in deep concentration as he looked from one book to the other. Ichigo was intelligent, but it would be tough to memorize what you were translating, even for him. Writing it down would make keeping track of it much easier.

Shiro dropped the note book and pen in the man's lap. "Need ta work on yer common sense, King" The albino stated.

Ichigo looked up at him with a sheepish smile, opening the note book to a blank page. "Thanks" he mumbled, going back to the task at hand.

His brother snorted and dropped back into his chair, pulling his favorite gun from it's holster. He pulled a cloth out of a small drawer on the end table and removed the clip from his hand gun. Shiro began taking the weapon apart, wiping down and setting the pieces on the end table that sat between them. "So wha's in the jar?" He asked, setting another piece down and glancing at King out of the corner of his golden eye.

Ichigo furrowed his brow a bit and looked across the room to the jar that sat on the top of their fire place mantle. He hadn't noticed it when he first entered the room, it was surrounded by a few other random ornaments. It had caught his attention when Shirosaki had left the room, the glint from the light playing across it when his brother moved had drew his gaze. "I assumed it was yours." He said, looking back to his book.

Shiro raised a single, snowy brow and looked at his copy. "Wait. So it aint yers?" He asked, halting what he was doing and placing the broken down hand gun on the end table.

The orange haired one hesitated, looking up at his twin. "...no... I've never seen it before..." He slowly closed his books, marking the pages with a torn strip of paper, and set them on the tiled floor. A lot of his random items, used for his spells, seals or whatever other magical uses, were kept in jars, but this one wasn't his, nor was it familiar to him.

Shirosaki stood from his chair and crossed the room, carefully picking up the small, glass jar. Something metallic clinked around inside and he lifted it up to get a closer look. Ashen brows drew together in a frown before shooting up, a look of surprise crossing his features. He studied the objects in the jar, swirling them around a bit before lowering his hand and tossing the jar to Ichigo, who had just stood from his own chair.

The orange head caught the jar in his hands, shooting his brother a slightly annoyed glare before lifting the object to look inside.

A flattened, miss shaped, silver slug rested in the bottom of the jar, a few slivers of the broken shell scattered around it. Traces of dried blood crusted the grooves and scratches in the silver, as well as speckling the inside of the jar. Raising his gaze to look back at Shiro, he gave his twin a curious look. "I though you said this wasn't yours, it looks like one of your bullets." He said, glancing back at the bullet.

Shiro made his own molds and poured his own silver to make his bullets. Each one was unique to him and marked with a small group of distinctive, rotating slash marks that were built into the mold. The marks acted as a signature, making it easy to identify his ammo verses someone else's. This bullet had obviously been fired from his gun and, from the looks of it, hit it's mark.

"Oh, it's one a my slugs. But I haven't been out retrieving any a the ones I shot." He stared back at Ichigo, a dark look flashing through his inverted eyes.

Orange brows drew together again as Ichigo tried to figure out how the bullet had gotten there. The tug on his barrier less than an hour ago crossed his mind. They figured it to be just be some punk trying to cause trouble, but how would a person get a hold of one of Shiro's bullets? And why would they sneak in just to put it back? There was also the fact that the shell had already been fired. No person in their right mind would dig through a werewolf carcass to steal a silver bullet, let alone go out into the forest to find it.

He watched his twin begin reassembling the hand gun. It only took him a few seconds to complete and he was sliding the loaded clip back into place.

Ichigo looked back to the bullet and a flash of brilliant, blue eyes flashed through his memory. He glanced at the books sitting on the floor before looking back to Shiro, his cocoa eyes widening slightly. Weeks ago, they had watched the werepanther dig the shell from his arm...

There was no other explanation.

"How... how did he get through the seal?" Ichigo asked, more to himself than his brother. He set the jar down, pushing a tanned hand through his shoulder length, orange locks as he thought. The tug on his barrier had almost felt human. "Help from another person?" He mumbled out loud, slowly pacing the length of the room while he racked his brain. It had him worried that a creature from the Forest was able to slip his magical seal so easily, not to mention get into their home.

"No..." He said a little louder, eyes widening as he looked up at his twin. It had felt **almost** human. "Of course. All he had to do was relinquish that panther form...and turn man..."

Beside him, Shiro snarled.

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><p><strong>Little bit of a cliff hanger, hope no one minds too much...<br>Soo... What do you guys think? Let me know! **

**Oh, and happy birthday to me XD**


	3. Chapter 3

*EDIT (because i fail) Fixed the link thing, and did a quick scan of the page again to catch some of the typos, hope that's a little better now. So if you've already read the chapter, I apologize for spamming you! ***  
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**AN: Chapter 3! Sorry I took so long ^^; work has been kicking my butt and I was cursed with writer's block for a few days. Anyway~  
>Thanks for all the great reviews on the first two chapters! And to everyone who has been reading and not commenting too! And Thank you to BlackStorm!<br>Monsters and Men came as an inspiration for her to draw a wonderful piece of art~ Check it out! (remember, just remove spaces after copy/paste) ^^  
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**http: / blackstorm . deviantart . com / art / Grimmjow - macabre - n - monsters - 263032336**

**Nothing is better than bloody Grimm!  
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**No more stalling! Enjoy~  
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><p>"Wake up! Wake up!" The smaller wolf leaped across the expanse of the small cave, landing in a crouch on the single occupant's exposed stomach.<p>

Coughing, the male rolled onto his side and curled around his aching abdomen, knocking the smaller wolf off of him. He flashed sharp teeth, ready to punish whichever of his subordinates would dare wake him in such a way.

His threatening expression quickly returned to boredom when he saw his tormentor. "I'm awake, Lilynette" He said in a slow drawl, warily eying the she-wolf as it hopped up from the ground. "What do you want?"

The female, coloring almost identical to his own, readied herself for another pounce, playfully stalking up on the larger, male alpha.

Standing, Starrk made to exit his chambers and enter the main part of the den. "Wait! I have an idea!" The alpha wolf halted, turning back to his smaller sibling and arched a brow, letting his ears perk just a little, indicating that she should continue.

The smaller werewolf excitedly expressed her ideas. "We need a larger territory, right? We should invade that damn cat's territory!"

"No."

"What! Why not?" The smaller wolf cocked her slim hip, giving him an incredulous look. The pack was growing, weather they wanted it to or not, and they needed the space. They were clashing with the humans and that damn werecat more often. Being rid of the feline would greatly expand their hunting grounds and diminish the run ins with humans and their deadly silver. It seemed like a win/win to her.

"It's wrong. Grimmjow has earned his land and he and I made a pact."

"So? That was a long time ago! Things change! And we don't have to kill him, we could just run him off!"

"I intend to keep my word as he has kept his." Starrk gave the smaller werewolf a stern look. "Besides" The alpha continued, turning back to leave the smaller room again. "Even if I did allow it, he would not relent without a fight. And he is a Deidad"

Lilynette trailed behind him, an extra spring in her step. "So are you, old man, and the Pack outnumbers him" She pointed out, and she was right. At first thought, it seemed like an easy enough task. "We could take him!"

"We wouldn't out number him by the time we finally killed him. And that's what it would take to for him to loose his territory." Starrk mumbled, not stopping as he turned down a corridor and headed further into the den. The halls were dark, too far back for the feeble, dying light of day to penetrate, yet the wolves had no trouble seeing each other.

Starrk cocked his head, waiting for a response. The she-wolf seemed to agree with his assessment, grimacing slightly in the dark. "Besides, wasn't getting three of the pups killed enough entertainment?" He asked her, still watching out of the corner of his stormy, grey eyes.

She bristled slightly, and opened her jaws to retort, but he continued, cutting her off. "And lets not forget the raid you have planned for tonight. Did you really think that would escape my attention?" His voice stayed a level, bored drawl, but his lip curled and ears flattened.

Lilynette growled a bit, flashing her teeth his way before scampering off, tail tucked between her legs. It was impossible to miss how pissed he was, with the way his ears had flattened back with his last question. There was no need to anger him further, even she wouldn't dare to do that. Starrk was strong, that's why he was Alpha, she didn't have a death wish.

The she-wolf knew he wouldn't stop the raid on the human farm, but she wouldn't push her luck by sending more members to their deaths in that cat's territory for a while. Of course, it wouldn't be terrible if the big bad kitty just happened to show up.

None of the surviving Pack knew what the full agreement between their leader and La Pantera had been all those centuries ago, nor had many questioned it extensively enough to find out. The few who tried to ask too many questions and push the subject too far often didn't survive Starrk's anger. He may have been easy going and laid back most of the time, but he rarely tolerated insubordination or disloyalty. All anyone knew was that Pantera grounds were off limits and, unless he was in their territory and threatening the Pack, so was the cat himself.

Sneering, she snapped her jaws at a lower ranking werewolf. The creature tucked it's tail and scurried away from her.

••••••

Light from the setting sun played off his silver plated hand guns. The forest was getting dark, the bird calls becoming fewer as most other creatures retreated into hiding, to sleep through the night and hope that they awoke with the next dawn.

A gentle breeze played with the leaves as Shirosaki continued to stalk forward like a pale shadow, being as silent as possible. He knew he should head back home, getting stuck in the Forest at night was a dangerous and deadly idea, especially with those monsters lurking about. But he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet, not knowing that that werepanther could sneak past their defenses almost undetected.

His brother was back at their home, desperately trying to find the flaw in his barrier that had allowed the cat through. Ichigo was powerful, a force to be reckon with and a natural talent, but he was teaching himself, he didn't have the luxury of being an apprentice. He didn't have anyone that could show him the basics of his art, or help him find his mistakes. He was completely self taught, and even if they could find another Caster, chances were high that he or she would be unwilling to help Ichigo. Too many people had heard the stories of what he had done, had heard of how Shiro came to be.

A twig snapped somewhere off to Shiro's right, shaking him from his thoughts. He spun around, one of his hand guns trained in that direction, while he kept the other at the ready in front of him. When nothing happened or showed it's self, Shiro turned back in the direction he had been headed.

The quiet sounds of the forest around him died altogether. The hushed, tense silence held a foreboding sense and he had his doubts that he was the cause. The air felt thick, heavy with fear as the fauna around him seemed to freeze in place and every living thing held it's breath. It was the calm that followed a predator around, the forced calm of all creatures hoping they would be passed by, unnoticed by the killer.

The sun sank lower in the sky, the forest nearly black now and the stars beginning to show through the gaps in the canopy over head. The albino decided he had over stayed his welcome, he turned to head home and out of the dangerous forest. As he did so, a bird cried from the branches above and flew out through the night sky, shattering the silence and making Shiro jump.

When the echos from the bird died away, the pale twin continued on his trek. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, his imagination conjuring the memory of cold, shining blue eyes. He berated himself for his paranoia, using the muzzle of one of his guns to part a few low hanging branches.

A twig snapped, off to his left and he froze mid step, raising his free gun to point in that direction. Suddenly, he found he had no desire to run into the werecat in it's territory at night, in the middle of the forest and with no back up.

He growled under his breath, cautiously stepping through the under brush. The feeling that he was being toyed with grew stronger, angering him. "Why don' ya show yerself, monster? Quit hidin' in the brush like a coward." He called out softly, not really yelling it, but not whispering either.

The breeze rustled through thick branches, carrying the soft sound of rumbling laughter with it.

Shiro froze, golden, inverted eyes widening in surprise before narrowing in anger. Maybe it wasn't just his imagination, maybe he really was being toyed with. He knew he should trust his instincts, a predator always knows when another predator is lurking about. He smirked at the thought and continued forward, keeping his eyes and ears trained on the forest around him. "Think tha's funny, do ya?" Shiro asked to nothing in particular. "I ain't scared of ya, kitty cat."

"Hnn..." The rumble seemed to come from the very forest it's self. "You don't need to be scared to die, human."

Shrio glanced around a bit, keeping his nerves in check. The deep, rumbling voice echoed to him on the breeze, making it impossible for him to pin point a direction. It had came from everywhere and no where all at once. The werecat knew what he was doing. "If ya were ganna kill me, ya woulda already." He stated, knowing it to be true.

The albino stepped through the last stand of trees, entering the clearing were his and Ichi's home was located, just as a chuckling, amused reply sounded much too close for comfort.

"You're right."

Shiro spun around at the sound of leaves from the forest floor rustling behind him, but as expected, he found nothing. Frowning, he turned back to the house and trudged through the yard, holstering his weapons under his arms and pulling his cloak close about his figure. He hated being toyed with, but it wasn't worth his life.

As he approached the marble stairs, a lone howl shattered the silent, night air. Shiro thought he heard an angered snarl from the tree line as the wolf's echo faded away. He shook his head and opened the door, locking and barring it behind him.

"Ichi!" Shiro called while he walked down the hall, toward King's study. He opened the door, peering inside. "Ya got tha' barrier fixed?" He asked, just as a heavy book was closed with a bang.

"Think so. But it's tough to say." Ichigo propped his chin on a tanned hand and glared at Shiro from his desk. "So. How did your hunting go?"

Shirosaki winced a little, he knew King would be mad at him for going after the werecat. Ichigo seemed to think the monster didn't really mean them any harm, he didn't get that the creature was a monster. None of them ever meant any good. "Aww, King." Shiro said, feigning hurt. "I didn't kill yer kitty." He added, turning to leave.

Ichigo's expression brightened. "You couldn't find him!" He said, standing from his desk and pointing at his twin.

Shiro shot a glare over his shoulder from the door way. "Nah. I found the coward. But he stayed hidin' in the trees."

Another howl split the air outside, the sound reaching through the stone walls of their home to echo down the hall. Ichigo shot to his feet and joined Shiro as he left the study. It wasn't uncommon to hear the werewolves when they were prowling the Forest, but they rarely came so close to their home. They had always been curious as to why the wolves didn't come closer, now they knew it was because the lived on the border of the cat's territory.

A happy sounding yipping sound floated from forest. The twins went about locking their home down, each grabbing their respective weapons as they went.

Ichigo stashed his silver dagger in his belt, watching as Shiro double checked the ammo in his guns. The pale twin pulled his long, ashen hair into a tail, his golden eyes flashing.

The air left Ichigo's lungs and he stood frozen for several seconds until he drew a deep breath.

Shiro was watching him, a look of worry showing on his pale features. Ichigo continued to ignore him, concentrating on his magical barrier. He could feel it pulse in his mind as multiple, large creatures ran into it. He could feel the invisible wall repel and push them back. Finally, he looked up at Shiro. "Th...The barrier" He panted slightly, still catching his breath from the unexpected assaulted to his magic. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "There's at least three big wolves. But the barrier worked." Ichigo grinned.

••••••

Lilynette bared her teeth in a gleeful smile, yipping excitedly as she and the small group of wolves she brought with her neared the large, fortress like house. As far as she knew, only a couple of humans lived in the big building, but the house it's self would make the raid a fun challenge. It had the looks of an old base, probably used as an outpost for travelers at one point. Or maybe it was a head quarters for Slayers, the humans hadn't put together a group of Slayers in a long time, decades even. Whatever the building was originally meant for, it was probably abandoned once La Pantera was discovered. Or maybe the werepanther had been the one to rid the fortress of it's original occupants.

The she-wolf shrugged. It didn't matter to her. She would have her fun one way or another.

A larger, black wolf approached her, nose lifted while it tested the air. "I thought ya said we weren't goin after the cat tanight?" He said, warily eyeing the smaller creature.

Lilynette smiled sweetly at him, taking grate joy in the way the larger beast flinched back. "We aren't, silly"

The male wolf cocked a brow, giving her an incredulous yet curious look.

"It's just a happy coincidence that the human home is so near his territory" She added happily, skipping away into the dark.

"Crazy bitch." The larger wolf mumbled, following silently after his leader. He internally cursed Starrk for sending him with Lilynette to look after the she-wolf.

As the small pack left the last line of trees behind them, Lilynette motioned three of the larger males forward first, including the one that had opened his trap to her. They would find out what kind of weapons or guards the humans had for her.

The smile was wiped from her face and her jaw dropped as the three were flung backward, the air crackling and sparking around them. Good thing she had sent them first. So, the humans were Casters, then. Rare, but probably nothing to worry about.

The first of the three wolves climbed to his feet, shooting the she-wolf a glare over his shoulder before turning back toward the barrier, his grayish hued eyes scanning the yard.

The other two scrambled to their feet, baring fangs as a deep, rumbling laughter sent all the werewolves into defensive crouches.

Lilynette straightened and bared her teeth, letting a rumbling growl leave her throat as blue eyes flashed in the dark. The larger, black male slowly stalked around to his leader's side, taking up a ready stance beside her, again cursing the Alpha and hoping tonight wouldn't be his last.

••••••

Grimmjow bared long, feline fangs and snarled into the dark as a hollow howl echoed through the air. He watched the pale man for a second longer before turning back into the Forest edge. Damn mutts, always had to ruin his fun. The werecat wondered what Starrk could possibly be thinking, sending more of his wolves into Pantera territory.

He crept around the clearing, sticking to the shadowed edge of the tree line, and listened to the beasts. The damn things were awfully noisy, almost as loud as humans, as they stalked toward the house.

As he got closer, padding on silent feet, he knelt down in the shadows, studying the raiding party. There were a half dozen werewolves that he could spot, all sembled into their Resurrections. They were all big guys too, a couple of them nearly doubling his lithe weight, not like the smaller ones that he had killed a couple weeks ago. This party meant business, these weren't the strays he had been dealing with lately.

Three of the large werewolves leaped forward, just to be thrown back by the Caster's barrier. The air sizzled and the smell of singed fur reached Grimmjow's nostrils. It appeared that the human had reinforced his magic while his pale copy had been hunting him. He was strangely relieved to see the wolves fail to get through.

When the first of the three downed creatures, a large, black male, stood up, the werepanther followed the line of it's indignant glare. His blue eyes landed on a smaller, female wolf.

That explained it. Lilynette. Starrk's only actual sibling and an Original. Most of the pack weren't originally born as werewolves, they had been claimed by Starrk or one of the other high ranking members and transformed. Though, with the way the pack seemed to be growing, Grimmjow wandered if the lower wolves were braking the rules on turning humans.

The sight of the vicious little she-wolf standing slack jawed in surprise had him chuckling and he decided there was no point in hiding from them. They would figure out he was there soon enough anyway. He hadn't bothered to stay down wind or anything, they would have picked up on his scent once the smell of magic faded.

He watched as the two, still downed wolves scrambled upright while the other wolves crouched and readied themselves, most baring gleaming fangs in his direction as his rumbling laughter reached their ears.

Grimmjow stepped through the brush, making himself visible to the raiding party. He kept a cautious eye on the she-wolf as she rose from her crouch and the large, black male joined her. The panther's pointed, black ears swiveled slightly, keeping track of the other wolves as he seemingly gave his full attention to Lilynette, looking relaxed and unaffected by the number of larger predators around him.

"What do you want?" The she-wolf growled, ears flattening against her skull in a healthy mix of fear and anger.

The feline's tail jerked in an agitated motion behind him. "Think that's my line. What the hell are you doin' here?" His lip curled, gleaming fangs showing the seriousness of his question.

The she wolf narrowed her eyes at him, taking a step forward as the wolves around her growled low in their throats at the unspoken threat in the panther's words and actions. "This isn't your territory." She shot back at him.

"It is now." Grimmjow sprang forward, no warning or indication that he was ready to attack given. The she-wolf tried to evade his lunge, but wasn't ready and wasn't fast enough.

She fell to the ground, grabbing at the panther's outstretched arms, a yelp escaping her throat. She snarled, attempting to kick the werecat off her, while the rest of her pack stood in shocked silence.

The black wolf was the first to regain his senses. He snarled, diving at the werepanther. He dug the claws of his hands into sculpted shoulders as he latched his jaws around the back of the cat's neck. Starrk would kill him Lilynette got hurt under his watch.

The panther jumped up from the smaller wolf, reaching over his head to grab at the large wolf attacking him. The wolf's weight nearly drug him to the ground as he spun, finally succeeding in dislodging the mutt when he fell against a tree.

Snarling anew, Grimmjow jumped back in to attack the black wolf. The creature's jaws snapped shut where is arm should have been, but he was quicker. Swiping a taloned paw at the beast, a strangled yelp pierced the night air.

The mutt stumbled backward, hands held to it's bleeding face. Sharp pain caused his vision to pulse white and blur in his right eye, he couldn't see at all out of the mangled left. He tore one hand away from his face, pointing to the cat, baring his teeth and snarling a command to the rest of the pack. "Get him, you idiots!" He stumbled away, pulling a stunned Lilynette from the ground as he did. "Le's get outta here, woman"

Grimmjow watched from the corner of his eye as the two retreated through the dark. The four other large wolves stalked forward, teeth bared and ears back.

Studying the creatures, he almost wished he hadn't attacked the she-wolf. He was out numbered, and each of the beasts out weighed him easily by a couple hundred pounds, one of the may have been double his weight, like the black one that had managed to slink away. Grimmjow mentally shrugged, there was nothing he could do about it now.

The panther hissed a warning that was left unheeded, then pounced forward.

••••••

"Are they still tryin' a get through?" Shiro asked, looking to his King. The sounds of snarling could be heard every now and then, and he was getting sick of waiting for something to happen.

Ichigo frowned. "No, that first assault was the last. I have no idea what they're doing now."

A pained, whimpering yelp split the air, drowning out the snarling that had previously carried to them. Shiro yanked the front door open, unable to stand still any longer.

"Wait, where are you going?" Ichigo asked, running after Shiro, closing the door behind them.

"To see what the hell is goin on." Shiro spun around to face Ichigo, pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. He didn't want to let the monsters know of their presence if they didn't have to.

Ichigo nodded and followed Shiro silently around the back of the house as snarling and growling permeated the still night air. A deep, rumbling hiss had the twins pausing, before rushing forward again, Shiro unholstering his hand guns.

A yelp split the air as they neared the tree line, the sounds of battle intensifying. Snarling and growling shattered the otherwise silent Forest as multiple large bodies clashed and struggled against one another. A pained growl that could have only been hissed from a feline throat met their ears.

Warm, brown orbs widened in recognition before Ichigo started to take off into the dark trees. Shiro caught his wrist, dragging his master back to his side. Ichigo glared at him before struggling to get free.

"What the fuck ya doin', King?" Shiro hissed at him. "Ya got a death wish?" He let go of his copy, bending to retrieve his dropped gun before stalking quietly into the Forest.

He should have sent Ichigo back to the house, where his King would be safer, but he could only think about getting to the monsters and seeing the werecat was still alive. He frowned, growling at his own thoughts before shrugging them away and stealthily heading toward the sounds of battle.

••••••

The werepanther had dealt minor wounds to all four of the beasts, before finally crippling one, sending it crashing to the ground with a shattered leg. That mutt was effectively out of the fight, for a while at least. Another lay dead at his feet, choking and gasping before it had finally bled out, it's throat torn away by sharp, hooked claws.

Blood pooled below Grimmjow, spreading out from the dead wolf, a few droplets of his own slid down a gash in his abdomen to join the tainted puddle. The cat panted, straightening over the torn body of one of the four wolves.

The mongrels were putting up a valiant fight, making him work for every shot he landed. The panther bore his fair share of wounds as well, though none serious enough to cause worry. They could wait until after he killed the other wolves to be tended to. Most of them were claw wounds, not nearly as nasty as bite wounds. Bite wounds tended to get infected quickly, something in werewolf saliva made them slow to heal and more painful.

A snarling drew his attention and had him spinning around to face the largest of the three mutts that still lived as it regained it's feet. Still catching his breath, the werepanther took a step forward, away from his kill so that he would have more room to maneuver.

Grimmjow was in no way small, he was a beast as well. In his current werepanther form, he easily tipped the scales at three hundred pounds of lean muscle, just shy of twice his weight in human form. But the beast standing in front of him may very well have doubled that.

The wolf, a scared up beast, lunged forward, using it's massive body weight to it's advantage.

The panther took a staggering step backward as the mutt slammed into him. Grimmjow tripped over the dead body at his feet and toppled to the ground, the wolf on top of him.

Snarling as the air was ripped from his lungs by the crushing weight of the large beast, Grimmjow grappled with it's jaws, fighting to keep dangerous teeth from closing around his throat. One clawed hand latched onto the bottom jaw, his other wrapped around the wolf's top, Grimmjow grunted as he felt sharp teeth slice at his fingers, but letting go would mean death.

The wolf snarled, laying it's ears flat as it struggled to force it's maw closed around the werepanther's vulnerable throat. It wrapped it's large hands around his wrists, attempting to pry them out of it's way.

Grimmjow felt the jaw close fractionally, bringing the deadly teeth closer to him. The cat let out an angered, growling hiss, straining to force the jaws open and away. He brought his powerful, back legs up, kicking at the larger wolf's abdomen as the two rolled and struggled on the forest floor.

The werewolf snarled, struggling to pull away from the raking claws as the werecat shredded the flesh of his torso. It dropped it's hands from the cat's wrists, trying to get ahold of those powerful back limbs. Unwilling to release it's jaws from the cat's throat, it inadvertently pulled Grimmjow to his feet in it's struggle. With the werepanther's feet back under him, the wolf was free to use it's claws, digging them back into the muscle of the cat's chest and arms.

Grimmjow hissed at the treatment, but was unable to keep the werewolf from tearing at him, still needing to keep massive canines away from his throat.

He caught movement from the corner of his eyes as another of the wolves lunged toward him. The werepanther kicked the legs out from under the large, scared wolf still trying to rip into his throat, causing the beast to loose it's footing and allow Grimmjow to turn.

The new wolf collided with the scared one, sending all three of the struggling creatures back to the ground beside the already dead wolf. Grimmjow heard the third wolf struggling to regain it's feet somewhere to the right of where they lay. He knew it to be the wolf with the shattered leg, but it would still be able to do damage to him if it got close.

Blood and saliva coated his fingers, dripping down his wrists and making it hard to keep his hold on the mutt's jaws. He renewed his efforts, again raking at the torn abdomen of the scared up wolf that refused to let go of him. Flesh gave way to muscle as his talon like claws sank deeper.

The wolf whimpered in pain even as it growled in anger and determination. The second wolf latched down on Grimmjow's arm, pulling a pained hiss from the werecat that seemed to spur the werewolves on. A thump and yelp announced that the third wolf had fallen back to the ground, it's shattered limb unable to support it's weight.

Grimmjow thrashed about under the weight of the two wolves. He tried desperately to get his feet under him, his instincts kicking in and screaming for him to get away. He knew he was in trouble, it was only a matter of time before he ran out of energy from fighting with both of the massive wolves.

When his efforts were rewarded with only the knowledge that he was unable to stand under the combined weight of both mutts, he went back to clawing at the torso of the first wolf, ignoring the teeth that dug into his forearm.

His claws raked against the bone of the creature's ribcage, gouging the solid structure and forcing pained noises from the stubborn beasts throat. He felt large fangs grind against the bone of his forearm as the second wolf began shaking it's head, pulling on his arm and loosening his grip, it's efforts spurred by the pained sounds of it's companion.

Snarling, the werepanther sank his teeth into the snout of the second wolf, still ripping at the first. The mutt yelped and tried pulling away, but Grimmjow held tight, sinking his teeth further into the beast's nasal cavity and cutting it's supply of oxygen in half. A rumbling left his throat as he struggled against the two creatures.

He finally released the second beast's snout when his claws struck soft organs and the first werewolf's jaws began to spasm, constricting against his fingers and throat.

Growling, the sound leaving his throat in a wheezing breath, Grimmjow desperately kicked at the wolf, trying to get it to release him as he panted for breath. Blood trickled from it's nose as it's yellow eyes rolled back and Grimmjow tried to get away again, managing to get his feet back under him. The creature collapsed in a heap, dragging the half crouching Grimmjow with it before he was finally able to rip the creatures loosened jaws away.

With a sickening rip, he tore the lower jaw from the already dead wolf's skull, flinging it to the side and staggering to his feet. Chest heaving, his muscles quivering slightly from exertion, Grimmjow searched for the second wolf, knowing he hadn't injured it enough to take it out of the fight.

His blue eyes landed on the already crippled wolf. The beast, smaller than the other two, more his size than theirs', still struggled to regain it's feet. Yellow, pain and fear filled eyes never left his form as the thing snarled at him. Grimmjow stalked toward it. The beast snapped it's jaws at him, but Grimmjow was able to easily evade.

Pouncing on the helpless beast, he drove a foot down at the base of the creatures back, severing it's spine and leaving it paralyzed. The injury would kill it in a few hours if Grimmjow hadn't finished the job by then.

However, at the moment, he had a more pressing matter. There was still one, relatively uninjured wolf lurking about. He could smell it stalking in the trees, the smell of it's blood mingled with the rest of the substance that tainted the air. A low, rumbling growl told him all he needed to know. The mutt wasn't going to give up and run off.

Grimmjow set off into the trees after the remaining mongrel, gingerly checking a few of his wounds as he went. Fatigue was beginning to set in and he needed to get the mutt out of the way quickly.

••••••

Shiro stalked through the quiet forest. The sounds of fighting had died away, leaving them in the hushed silence, the very forest seemed to hold it's breath.

"Too many damn predators 'round here." The pale man grumbled under his breath as he pushed through the thick underbrush.

He paused, golden eyes scanning the dark forest as a low whimpering sound reached his ears. Ashen brows furrowed, that had sounded close by. He couldn't hear any movement though, only the very quiet whimpering of an injured animal.

He took another cautious step forward, Ichigo following quietly beside him. Shiro sucked in a surprised breath, jumping backward slightly and holding his arm out to keep Ichigo behind him.

He had nearly stepped on the creature, which had yet to move. The only indication that it lived was a quiet whimper as it's yellow eyes rolled about, attempting to look at them. It's lips curled up in a near silent snarl, eyes rolling back every few seconds as it's limbs twitched in miniscule, jerking movements.

Carefully walking around the beast, Shiro could see why the werewolf made no attempt to attack them. It's spine was cleanly snapped near the base, rendering the animal immobile. Fate was cruel.

The albino could see that the animal would live for quite a while in it's condition. "Hand me yer dagger, King." He whispered, holstering one of his weapons and holding his hand out.

Ichigo stepped up beside him, handing his twin the silver dagger. He watched as Shiro crouched beside the crippled werewolf, dagger in hand.

The wolf attempted to jerk away, head barely moving. It bared it's teeth in a pathetic attempt to scare them away, a soft whimper leaving it's throat. The sight was pitiful and Ichigo almost felt bad for the beast.

Shiro cautiously a reached a hand out, grabbing hold of the animal's bottom jaw and raising it's head. "Ganna make it quick fer ya, pup." He whispered, remembering that the werepanther could speak and understand human language, the wolf probably could too.

The wolf whimpered and closed it's eyes, but stopped snarling and Shiro ran the silver blade across it's throat. Standing from his deed, Shiro wiped the blade clean and handed it back to Ichigo, then turned away from the dead wolf and continued in the direction they had been moving.

After crossing several meters, further into the dark Forest, they came across two more bodies. Both were werewolves, to the relief of both Ichigo and Shiro, though Shiro wasn't about to admit it. One had it's throat torn out, the other, a much larger one, had it's lower skull torn from it's body, it's internal organs spilling from it's ripped abdominal cavity. Yellow eyes stared sightlessly at them.

As they studied the bodies, trying to figure out where the werepanther had gone after killing these two, an ear splitting shriek erupted from the night, followed by snarling and a rumbling growl.

Shiro leveled his silver plated gun in the direction of the clash, slowly standing from his crouch. He took a cautious step in that direction, motioning for Ichigo to stay back.

The more colorful twin would have none of it, and continued to follow a few feet behind his brother.

As they approached the battle, the ground trembled slightly, accompanied by a loud thud, as the large combatants crashed to the ground. A gasping couch reached their ears, than another pained, hissing yelp. Muffled growling permeated the air, as if the creature, they couldn't tell weather it was the cat or wolf, was growling around a mouthful.

Shiro took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He had no way of knowing how many wolves were still about, though it sounded like only one wolf and the cat. Nor could he be sure of the positions of the battling monsters. He raised his gun and crept around another tree, bring the combatants into view.

In the dark, he couldn't distinguish much detail, but he judged the larger shadowed figure to be the werewolf. The larger monster seemed to dwarf the feline as it crouched above the cat's prone body.

The werepanther hissed and spit, desperately fighting the monster off with one clawed hand. The wolf had it's jaws clamped down at the juncture of the cat's neck and shoulder, the wound bleeding freely between it's teeth by now, pooling below the struggling cat.

The panther's right hand shot out, finding the beasts face, and began dragging it's claws down the wolf's maw. The wolf yelped, retracting it's jaws and releasing the cat. Still using it's weight to hold the feline down, the wolf grabbed hold of the cat's arm, wrenching it to the side and holding it down.

The cat hissed in pain, but refused to give up, still struggling and kicking at the wolf, teeth bared in an angry, defiant snarl that gleamed in the meager light.

Shiro took another quiet step forward, positioning himself for a clear shot. He wasn't entirely sure why he cared if the cat lived or died, but he felt the need to help him. Blaming the feelings on how obsessed with the monster King was, Shiro leveled his gun, taking aim on his thrashing target.

The wolf snarled, wrapping it's free hand around the cat's throat, the feline's right arm still pinned beneath in it's other hand. In the feeble light of the moon, barely reaching through the canopy, Shiro couldn't tell why the cat wasn't struggling and fighting with both arms. Soon, it wouldn't matter. The wolf finally held still long enough for him to make a clean shot.

The sound of his gun split the air, ringing off the trees and echoing through the forest. The monsters held still, neither moving as Shiro watched shining, blue eyes widen in the dark. For a moment, he almost thought he missed.

Finally, the wolf toppled forward, landing beside the werepanther, the arm that had been pinning the cat's right arm draped in a mock show of protection across the feline's chest.

The cat struggled from under the heavy limb, staggering to it's feet, it's left arm dangling at it's side. It lurched a couple meters away from the humans before falling back to the ground, chest heaving, a low, snarling rumble leaving it's throat. It curled around unseen wounds slightly, vibrant, blue eyes never leaving the humans.

Ichigo ran around the pale form of his brother, toward the dark shape with brilliant blue eyes. Shiro grabbed at his wrist, missing as his brother ran by. "King!" Shiro took off after his master.

The two paused a few feet out of the injured cat's reach, they crouched down to the werepanther's level. "are...are you ok?" Ichigo asked in a horse voice, not knowing what to do.

The panther said nothing. Blue eyes looked from one twin to the other as the cat panted to catch his breath. A low, rumbling growl left his throat as Grimmjow warily drug himself to his feet again, keeping the humans in front of him.

He took a few steps back, his obvious intent was to leave the humans behind, to get away as his instincts, still in overdrive from the fight, demanded. He took another step back, eyeing the gun in the pale man's hand, before bumping into a tree. With the solid trunk of the tree pressed against him, Grimmjow allowed himself to sink to the ground again, sliding into a sitting position. His tail jerked slightly, in tired, yet irritated motions at his side.

In his injured and fatigued state, he concluded he would be unable to get away at the moment, there was no sense in wasting the last of his energy in running. If these humans wanted to harm him, the pale one would have done it at the same time he shot the wolf.

And so Grimmjow kept a careful eye on the two men as they slowly stood, careful to keep their hands visible, and took another few steps closer. He noted how the pale one kept his gun out, the safety off, and how he kept himself and the other from getting within Grimmjow's immediate striking range. It meant that the pale man was still wary, still fearful of Grimmjow, and the thought almost made the werepanther smile. Almost.

Instead, he grimaced as he took inventory of his wounds.

Most were just cuts and bruises, the smaller scratches and cuts already beginning to knit closed. The larger gashes would take longer, but still heal if given the time. The one on his chest was deep, tearing into the first few layers of muscle and still bled with his movement and deep breaths.

The bites were what he was really concerned about, his fingers burned and stung, lacerated and shredded from the wolf he had fought before this final one. The bite to his shoulder region was still in the numb stage, but he could feel that it would also be a rather nasty wound. The one to his forearm worried him a bit too, though not as much as the other two. The wolf had sank it's teeth to the bone and the wounds burned with each twitch of movement to the muscles.

His left arm was torn up pretty badly as well, dislocated and hanging limply at his side. He would be able to relocate it once given the chance, but he feared that with as much blood as he had lost, he would pass out if he tried now.

Grimmjow's attention was pulled back to the two men as the pale one moved to holster his weapon. The werepanther narrowed his eyes, warily watching the two men that had crept even closer to him.

The orange haired one did nothing to hide what he felt, worry and concern were evident on his features. The pale one was a bit tougher to read, though Grimmjow thought he could see the wariness and readiness of a predator, mixed with something that may have been...softer, he really wasn't sure.

He pulled the useless limb into his lap, feeling the way the joint throbbed. He let out a quiet, pained hiss with the movement. His muscles twitched, at the ready to spring from the ground, as the men took another tentative step toward him.

Ichigo held his hands out to his sides in a none threatening way, seeing the way the werepanther tensed up, as if ready to flee or attack at any moment. To his amazement, Shiro had put his gun away, and was crouched down, studying the cat's wounds.

"we don't want to hurt you" Ichigo whispered, almost afraid to brake the silence that had settled over the forest.

The werepanther's ears flicked toward him, but the beast didn't make a sound and Ichigo began to feel silly for talking to it. After what felt like several minutes of silence, he began to wonder if he had imagined the whole conversation that the creature had had with the werewolf a few weeks ago. Maybe the beast was just a beast after all, and couldn't really talk to them.

"What do you want, then?" The voice was thick and rich, like heavy waves crashing against an ocean cliff as it rumbled from deep in the creature's chest, leaving both Ichigo and Shiro stunned.

"W...Well, we... heard you fighting..." Ichigo stammered, eyes wide as he watched the werepanther that sat before him. The creature's brilliant, blue eyes were somehow dulled, almost tired looking. It took deep, even breaths, the deep gash in his chest weeping slightly with each inhale. As Ichigo looked over the creature, he realized just how wounded he really was, and how much blood was still pooling where he sat.

When the cat made no indication to speak, Shiro stood, getting annoyed. "Tch. We came ta save yer ass." He placed his hand on Ichi's shoulder, turning to leave. "Come on, King, le's get outta here."

"No." Ichigo stood, but only to move closer to the werecat sitting on the ground. He couldn't just the leave the injured creature in the condition he was in. "We can help" he said, indicating the cat's wounds.

Grimmjow and Shiro both bared their teeth and snarled at the same time, the other's reaction annoying each other.

Ichigo looked from the panther to his brother, a slight smirk on his lips. "What happens if the werewolves come back?" He asked, the question addressed to both.

"Tch. They seem pretty dead ta me." Shiro said, glancing to the one he had shot. He turned to look down at King, then followed the man's gaze to the werecat, who's eyes were slowly widening.

Grimmjow initially scoffed at the notion of the wolves coming back to finish the job. They wouldn't dare. But as the question sank in, so did his situation.

Lilynette and that black mutt had gotten away, the evidence of his attack written clearly across the face of the larger. That wasn't such a big deal, injuries like that were expected when one dealt with him, but he had attacked the she-wolf personally, Starrk's very spoiled sibling. And he hadn't even been in his own territory, but at the very edge, just outside the border.

In his shape, he wouldn't stand a chance against them. Even a single wolf might be able to kill him in this state, though he would sure as hell put up a fight.

Grimmjow lurched to his feet. He had to get up, he had to get to his own territory and he had to get to his den, where he would be safe, where he would be able to rest until he regained enough energy to heal the rest of his wounds.

He watched as the two humans jumped backward, the orange haired one falling backward to his ass. The pale one drew his gun, aiming at him. A confused look crossed his features as Grimmjow stumbled past them, paying them no attention.

He made it several meters, in the direction of his territory, before his strength gave out again he collapsed against a tree for support.

He growled, gritting his teeth when his left arm was pinned between his body weight and the tree.

Ichigo scrambled up, quickly finding his feet and following the werepanther. Shiro trailed behind him, just as confused. He wasn't hard to follow, his fatigued panting leading the way. When they caught up to him, he was leaning against a tree, still on his feet, but it didn't look like he would be for long.

The orange haired twin cautiously reached his hand out, gently laying it on the taller creature's shoulder.

The cat hissed, spinning around faster than the humans would have believed possible, only to get a face full of gun as Shiro instinctively raised his weapon.

••••••

"Wait. What the hell happened? I thought I told you to stay away from Grimmjow." Starrk pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down at the werewolf that was being treated at the moment.

The left side of the wolf's face was mangled, flesh sheared away. The doctor was unable to save the eye on that side and the wounds were too extensive for a werewolf's meager healing to repair.

The black wolf pushed a smaller werewolf away as it addressed his leader. "We weren't even in his territory! He attacked us fer tryin' ta raid that human place." The wolf was pissed, anger evident in his snarling reply.

"Where's Lily? I told her to stay away" Starrk grumbled under his breath. He had warned her to stay away from the feline's territory for a reason, this reason, to be exact.

"She's prolly hidin' in her cave. The cat scared the shit outta her." The black wolf growled, rubbing at the stitching in the flesh of his face. The wound would scar badly, the eye ball was a milky grey and completely blind, but he was lucky to be alive. The fate of the other four wolves was certain without a need to investigate, none would return home.

"Is she alright?" Starrk asked, looking a little more awake. "Nnoitra, you were supposed to protect her, if she got hurt..."

The black wolf cut him off. "She's fine. A few scratches, but I pulled Grimmjow off before he could do any real damage."

The leader of Los Lobos heaved a sigh of relief, but his good mood was short lived. Grimmjow had attacked his precious sister, his family.

"Nnoitra." He said, voice too even to mean anything less than revenge. "Get a hunting party ready." With that, Starrk turned and left the black wolf alone. He couldn't believe he was actually going to go after Grimmjow. The cat had kept to the pact for so long, he almost found it hard to believe that he had went against it now.

He planed on finding the cat, even if he had to invade Pantera territory to do so. He would have his answers.

••••••

He visibly relaxed when he realized he wasn't being attacked, that it was only the human that had touched him. Grimmjow slowly raised his right hand and pushed the muzzle of the gun out of is face, a little surprised when the action didn't earn him a silver bullet.

Dizzy and off balance, he spun back in the direction of his own home. The world spun slightly with the action and he stumbled a bit as he took a few steps forward. If only he could get his left arm back in place, at least he would have better balance then. There was nothing he could do for the dizziness, loosing enough blood will do that.

He took another stumbling step, determined to get back to safety. He could hear the humans trailing him, but knew they wouldn't hurt him. He could tell they were being honest when the orange haired one had told him they didn't want to hurt him.

"Hey, let us help you" The orange haired man tried, refraining from touching him this time. Grimmjow ignored it, his pride and instincts demanding that he didn't need help.

A deep, angered howl cut through the Forest, freezing the werecat in his tracks.

It was faint, still far away, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Grimmjow recognized Starrk's deep baritone and cursed himself for his stupidity when he had leapt at the she-wolf.

He stumbled forward again. Too slow. The wolves would catch up to him before he could reach the safety of his den at this rate. He needed to pick up the pace, he needed to be able to balance, needed the world to quit spinning.

Coming to a decision, Grimmjow wrapped his right arm across his body, grabbing the wrist of his useless left. He would have to try it. He needed his arm to be functional, both for escaping and for fighting if it came to that.

Gritting his teeth, a low rumbling growl leaving his throat, Grimmjow yanked down on his wrist as quickly and forcefully as he could muster. A yelping hiss escaped his throat and he shoved upward with his right arm, forcing the joints in his left back in place, just as the world went dark.

••••••

"Hey, let us help you." Ichigo said softly. He knew his voice would carry to the panther's keen ears with ease, but the creature didn't acknowledge him.

He continued to stumble forward, pace slowing, his fatigue and dizziness evident. The creature had lost too much blood for this, he needed to be resting, to be still so his body could begin recovering.

Shiro and Ichigo froze when the werepanther halted his stumbling steps. A deep howl barely reached their ears, but it was clear the panther had heard it and knew what it meant.

The creature lurched forward another few steps, the twins following, before he came to a halt again.

The two men watched as the creature trembled ever so slightly, then grasped it's limp arm with it's good one. A low growl reached their ears and it finally clicked what the cat meant to do.

"W...wait!" Ichigo tried to reach the werepanther, but the cat was already yanking on his injured arm.

A pained noise filled the silence, followed by a sick, squishy sound as joints realigned. The panther collapsed in a heap, out cold.

"Shit!" Shiro hissed, leaping forward on instinct. He managed to catch the large animal before he collapsed completely and hurt himself further. He gently lowered the cat to the Forest floor as Ichigo slid to a halt beside him.

Wide, chocolate eyes looked down on the unconscious creature, debating what to do about the situation. Ichigo gently reached out and touched the werepanther, retracting his hand like it burned.

When the panther made no move or signs of waking, he laid his hand back on a muscled arm. The thick, black fur was soft beneath his fingers where blood hadn't matted and hardened. Ichigo gently shook the large creature, making an attempt to wake him.

The werepanther didn't move. Ichigo gently shook the creature again, expecting the same thing. "What are we going to do?" He asked, looking at his pale brother.

Shiro shrugged, at a total loss. This was a dangerous monster. He still wasn't sure why he and Ichigo were out in the Forest in the first place. "Leave him ta wake up on his own?"

Ichigo frowned at him. "No. You know we can't..." His voice trailed off and eyes widened as another howl split the air, this one closer than the last. Damn things moved fast.

"Ya sure, King?" Shiro asked, jumping to his feet and trying to haul Ichigo with him. There was no way he was going to let them get caught up in a fight that involved more werewolves.

"Shiro, we can't just leave him here!" Ichigo struggled against his brother, dropping back to the prone creature's side.

Shiro arched an ashen brow skeptically, more than ready to do just that.

"Please..." Ichigo said, looking up at his twin. "Help me get him to safety... they'll kill him."

Shiro opened his mouth to protest, but what could he say to that? Ichigo was right, the wolves would most likely rip the cat to shreds. Shiro hated being compared to these monsters, but how much better than them would he be if he let the helpless cat be killed? Plus, Ichigo was making those damn cute faces at him again, he couldn't possibly refuse. "Dammit, dammit, dammit." He cursed his sense of moral under his breath and knelt beside his King. "Le's hurry then."

Ichigo nodded and grabbed the unconscious creature's upper half, hooking his arms under it's shoulders. Shiro bent and grabbed the beasts legs. Together, they hoisted the panther up, grunting under it's deceptive weight. "Damn" Shiro gasped. "Son of a bitch's heavy fer such a lithe lookin' thing"

Ichigo grunted his agreement as they carried the creature toward their home, happy that it had managed to stagger most of the way on it's own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: In case you haven't noticed, I have a thing for bloody, beaten, naked sexy men (the naked comes in next chapter *wink*) I really should take it easy on the main characters, but what would be the fun in that?<strong>

*on a side note. "Deidad" is spanish, it has appeared a couple times in the story. the plurl is "deidades", which has also appeared***  
><strong>

**So, what did you guys think of the chapter? Please let me know! I love getting feed back and comments ^_^  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This took way too long... for that, i apologize. And I curse work to hell. Every time I really got into the flow of things and was actually getting somewhere with the chapter, i would have to stop and leave for work. So annoying. Then I get to deal with people i despise all day. Then, six or more hours later, come home and try to pick up where i left off in writing and try to get back in the swing of things all over again. Grr.  
>Anyway, rant aside ^^;<strong>

oh, just going to address this here, since a few people asked about it. Grimmjow, as a werepanther is quite a bit different from the wolves. Silver can harm him, if it enters his body, but it wont kill him like it will the werewolves. Same goes with the barrier Ichigo uses. He's been targeting the wolves, so it's not as harmful to Grimm, though still not very nice to him either.

**Anyway, on to the chapter! enjoy~  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"Dammit, Rukia. We do this for them every year, it's the only thing I ever drag you here for, can't you just chill?" The red head huffed, walking up the pathway that would lead them to Ichigo and Shiro's place.<p>

He had been close friends with the twins before the accident, and had tried desperately to keep close after Ichigo's family was taken away from him. That first year without his twin had nearly killed the orange haired boy, devastated as he had been.

Renji had made it his job to make sure Ichigo was ok, including forcing him to eat, for a long time. It had become tradition for him to sneak into Ichi's place and make him breakfast for his birthday.

After Ichigo had brought Shiro back, Renji had continued to stay close to the boys, though Shiro creeped him out a little and the relationship was more strained than it once was. He still talked to Ichigo often enough, and came to visit every once in a while.

"He's dead!" The petite, raven haired female hissed up at her taller friend. She crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant posture, but continued to walk next to the red head. Shirosaki, Ichigo's twin brother, had died. They had all seen it, heard about it, watched as Ichigo deteriorated before their very eyes because of it.

They ascended the marble stairs to the front door, still bickering back and forth. "He's not anymore, hasn't been for a while now. Just try to be polite at least?" Renji said, knocking on the door.

"He creeps me out. And Ichigo isn't much better. How could he do something like that?" The small woman asked. They had this argument every year, but Rukia always insisted on being there.

Their arguing was interrupted when the door swung open, revealing an unamused looking Shirosaki.

"S'up, Red? Rukia." The pale twin said in greeting, raising an ashen brow in a questioning and skeptical manner as he stepped out of the way, sweeping his arm and motioning them to follow him inside. He lead them down the corridor, stepping into the sitting room before speaking again. "King's still sleepin, so if yer here ta see him, you'll have ta wait."

"Oh, well. It's your guys' birthday, did you forget?" Renji asked, looking around the room, even though it hadn't changed much since his last visit a couple months ago. It was always a little awkward to talk to Shiro at first.

Shiro didn't make things easy on him, either. He thought about it for a while, letting the silence stretch until it began to feel uncomfortable and practically had poor Renji squirming.

"Guess yer right, red." He finally said with a smirk. "I'll go wake King up, make yerselves comfortable."

"Uh, ok. We'll go get started then!" Rukia put it, headed toward the swinging door that opened up to the kitchen.

"Sure thing, be down in twenty" Shiro said cheerfully over his shoulder, already headed toward his and Ichigo's bed room.

Renji and his smaller companion got busy with making breakfast. Rukia set the box she had been carrying on the counter, opening it to pull a large birthday cake out. She set the cake on the table, placing the candles just right, before opening up a couple cupboards. Finally finding the one she was looking for, she went about setting the table for four.

They took their time getting things ready. Shiro had told them twenty minutes and they weren't about to question why it would take so long to wake Ichigo up. Though neither man had ever said anything about it, it was easy enough to guess the nature of the twins' relationship and that was something Renji and Rukia would prefer to stay ignorant of.

••••••

A lone wolf paced the length of the deserted corridor. A frustrated growl left his throat every so often, probably the reason the dark section of cave had stayed deserted. No doubt his snarling and pacing kept the others away.

He had found Grimmjow, and had gotten his answers, but the desire for blood had quickly drained upon seeing his once friend and nemesis. Starrk no longer wished for the cat's head.

Lilynette had sustained barely a scratch, the cat had simply scared her, like Nnoitra had said. As for the black wolf himself, he lost an eye but he was very much alive and making a quick recovery.

The werepanther, on the other hand, had taken an ample amount of damage. When Starrk had followed his scent, he had been able to smell the cat's blood and knew his wolves had done well before dying. The price Grimmjow had payed became evident when the panther stumbled out of the human fortress, no longer in his resurrection.

The damage had been obvious and extensive. His blue eyes had been clouded by pain and blood loss, something Starrk had not seen in a very long time. The werecat had barely stayed on his feet during their conversation.

When Starrk and his pack disappeared back into the forest, he hadn't missed the way Grimmjow collapsed as soon as the wolves were out of range, nor did he miss how the humans had carried him back into their home.

Starrk wasn't a cruel creature by nature, and in his opinion, Grimmjow had payed enough for his attack on Lily.

He only hoped that Grimmjow was not getting himself into trouble again. The cat had walked a dangerous road with a human Caster before. That was something he wouldn't wish on anyone.

The leader of Los Lobos knew his wolves wouldn't go against his wishes and seek revenge, but they wouldn't happy about it either. He needed a way for them take out their frustration and anger.

••••••

"hnnn..." Ichigo moaned as his twin thrust forward again, penetrating deep inside him. "Sh...Shirooo–"

"Yeah, King?" Shirosaki panted out, grabbing hold of King's slim hips and picking up his pace. Ichigo thrust back against him, moaning out his pleasure. The sounds spurred the albino on and he thrust harder, wanting to hear more as those silky walls wrapped around him.

Ichigo grabbed at his twin's shoulders, crying out as his prostate was struck ruthlessly. "I...It smells good..." He panted out, still trying to form complete thoughts while his mind kept fuzzing out. He never guessed he would be woken up this way. "You...cannnn ahh..." Heat was pooling in his belly and Shiro continued to pound into him. "can't cook... while you're in here...set the place on fire..." He finally managed to pant out, his voice low and breathy.

Shiro smirked, lifting one of Ichigo's legs higher and changing his angle slightly. "Don't worry... King" He grunted out, still keeping his pace fast and brutal. He had a time limit, after all. "Red and the midget are here."

"Wh... What?" Ichigo tried to sit up, but a strong hand pushed against the center of his chest, forcing him back to the bed.

Shiro licked a trial up the side of King's neck, wrapping his fingers around his twin's erect cock at the same time.

The orange haired man gasped at the sensations, tossing his head back and arching his body. His struggle to get up was forgotten as that warm hand began pumping his member in time with deep thrusts.

"Damn... Shiro..." Ichigo panted, the heat in his belly turning into a raging inferno. "I'm ganna..." His vision pulsed and a strangled moan tore from his throat as he came hard between them.

Above him, Shiro grunted, thrusting a few more times before finally following with his own orgasm. He pulled out and rolled over to Ichi's side, pulling his master into a deep, passionate kiss. "Happy birthday, King"

••••••

Grimmjow furrowed his brows before prying his eyes open. Slightly disoriented, he lay still on the plush, over sized bed and wandered where he was. He closed his eyes against the bright light streaming in from the parted curtains to his left, racking his brain for memories of where he was and how he got there.

The room smelled familiar, the scent a bit dulled and dusty. It held the aroma of humans, two certain men, in specific.

He remembered the forest; stalking the pale one, even exchanging a few words. Thinking a bit harder, he remembered howls and blood, lots of blood. Bits and pieces of the fight came back to him. He had been running mostly on instinct, letting it guide him in the fight. He had killed the wolves, he knew that much, but it had cost him.

Carefully raising his hand, he trailed his fingers down his throat as the memory of the wolf's jaws closing around him flashed in his mind. He could feel that the skin was bruised, but not broken. The same could not be said for his palms and fingers, however. He flexed his left arm, pleased when he felt that the healing joints were securely in place. Then he brought his hand up to his shoulder, gently probing at the puncture wounds from a nasty bite.

His fingers brushed the soft fabric of a cloth bandage. Frowning, the feline opened his eyes again. It finally dawned on him that he was in his human form, not his resurrection.

He didn't remember relinquishing it. He remembered trying to get back to his own territory, and relocating his arm. Then he had passed out.

Growling, low in his throat, Grimmjow concentrated on the blurred memories that followed the relocation of his injured arm. He vaguely remembered a stinging, electrical pain, then hitting the ground. The human's had been carrying him, he was certain of it, and dropped him when the barrier's magic had shocked him awake. How had they gotten him through?

A silver dagger flashed in front of his mind's eye.

Grimmjow shot up in the bed, the crimson sheets pooling around his waist. He let out a pained gasp at the movement, but stayed in a sitting position as he looked around the room he was in.

The space was large, the four poster bed he rested in sat at the very center. Long, billowing drapes, crimson to match the sheets, nearly brushed the stone floor in front of the window. Parted a few inches in the middle, they let light in to cast a glow through out the room. A large, wooden chest rested at the foot of the bed, the top covered with a black, velvet cloth. A jar sat on top of it.

The air smelled stale and Grimmjow guessed the humans didn't use this room often.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed pulled a pained and irritated groan from his throat. He could feel his movements pull at the deeper wounds, ones that would take a while to heal, but he couldn't lay there all day. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

Standing up, he let the sheets fall from his naked form to collect on the floor. Grimmjow wrapped a tanned hand around the post at the foot of the bed, using the structure for support while he waited for the room to slow it's spinning. After a few moments, forcing his breaths to come in a deep, even rhythm, he finally stepped away.

Curiosity getting the bettor of him, Grimmjow carefully rounded the foot of the bed and snatched the lone jar off the chest. Smirking, he held it up and rattled the mangled, silver slug around in it's glass prison.

He wrapped long fingers around the jar and made his way to the large, intricately carved door that would lead out of the room. The door creaked on stiff hinges, loud to his keen ears as he swung it outward. Stepping through the portal, he padded silently down a corridor, hardly noticing the cold of the stone floor below his bare feet.

The hall way, lined with several closed doors on either side, led Grimmjow to a spiral stair case. They only led down, meaning he must have been brought all the way to the top floor. Beginning his decent, he wandered why the humans would bother hauling him clear to the third floor.

He shrugged his curiosity off and opened his scenes to the building around him, listening and watching for signs of the human occupants. Nearing the landing to the second floor, Grimmjow paused, again searching for signs of the humans, but all seemed quiet.

Blue brows furrowing a bit, he continued down the stairs, headed toward the first floor, the one he had deemed to be the most used. Halfway down the stairs, the smell of food floated to his senses, making him unconsciously lift his nose and test the air.

His belly grumbled quietly and Grimmjow hummed, a quiet, purring sound, as he followed the delicious smells toward the kitchen. He paused at the door way, listening to the men move about it the other room.

"Hey, guys" It was the voice of the orange haired human and he seemed a little uncertain. "So, uh... How are you?"

"Doin' well, how about you two?" The voice was deeper, a voice the werepanther didn't recognize.

Grimmjow bared his teeth in a silent snarl and crept passed the door way, toward the sitting room.

Entering the large room, he double checked that the connecting door between the sitting room and kitchen was closed. The muffled voices coming from the other room told him that it was.

Walking on silent feet, Grimmjow went to the fire place, setting the jar back where he had originally placed it the first time he had been in the home, before leaving the room to find a bathroom.

The smell of cooking food was luring him to enter the kitchen, but damn did he have to piss. First things first. Grimmjow entered the hall and set about finding some place to relieve his bladder.

••••••

"Hey, guys." Ichigo greeted his friends as he leaned back against the counter. "So... how are you?" He asked, feeling a little lame and embarrassed. His face was still a little flushed and he was still coming down from his pleasure induced high. Ichigo pulled a T-shirt over his head as Renji replied.

"Doin' well, how about you two?" The red head asked from his place in front of the stove. He concentrated on what he was doing as he spoke, adding a few pancakes to the stack and pouring more batter into the pan. "Isn't it dangerous around here this time of year? You guys practically live in the forest."

"It can be" Ichigo said, glancing at Shiro for a moment. Last night had certainly proven that. After they had finally hauled the panther-turned man into their fortress like house, the wolves had shown up.

The one called Starrk had tracked the werecat's scent all the way to where they had carried him through the barrier. The werewolf had sent his men flying at the magical seal for almost a half hour, howling and snarling, all the while demanding to see Grimmjow, which turned out to be the werecat's name.

Eventually, the cat had stirred and gathered enough strength to drag himself outside, pushing the two men away as he went. He had stayed in his human form and walked right up to the barrier, but never left the safety it offered. After a long talk with the lead wolf, which Shiro and Ichi couldn't hear, the werewolves had slinked off into the night and the werecat had practically collapsed where he stood. The twins had run to his side and carried him back into the house, taking him up to one of the unused rooms, where they patched him up.

Ichigo shivered a bit before forcing the thoughts from his mind and continuing. "But we manage. I'm learning to strengthen the seal and make it more effective."

Renji nodded. Of course he and Rukia knew about Ichigo's abilities, they were impossible to miss. Shiro was all the evidence needed. They had also been there when Ichigo first started showing signs of being a Caster.

"Alright!" Renji exclaimed, turning the stove off and piling bacon and sausage onto a plate. "Time to eat!"

Shiro and Ichigo smiled and handed their plates over to the chef. The red head loaded them up with eggs, pancakes and meat before passing the plates back to the twins. He then did the same for Rukia and himself and turned to the table.

Ichigo and Shiro were standing beside the table, holding their plates, matching smiles on their faces. It was almost like when they were kids, except for how colorless Shiro had become.

"What are you waiting for?" Renji asked "Dig in!"

Shiro laughed, then motioned toward the sitting room, careful not to spill the juice in his glass. "We might as well be comfortable while we chow down"

Ichigo nodded his agreement and led the way, taking his place in his usual chair. Shiro sat down next to him, placing his glass on the end table between them, the kitchen at their backs and the fireplace in front of them.

Renji and Rukia took seats to their right, facing the door that led into the hallway, which was to the twins' left.

All four dug into their breakfast happily. Renji was a surprisingly good cook when he tried. A conversation was struck up and all of them laughed and talked about whatever crossed their minds.

Shiro nudged King's arm, gently drawing his attention without making it obvious to their guests. His gold on black eyes looked pointedly from Ichigo to the fireplace.

The orange head followed his gaze, his eyes immediately landing on a glass jar that didn't belong. Eyes widening fractionally, he looked back to Shiro. They apparently had company at some point this morning and hadn't even noticed. Ichigo silently hoped the werepanther turned man went back up to the room they had given him and wasn't lurking about on the first floor. A thought struck him and prayed to every god he could think of that the man would stay a man and not veer back to his resurrection with Renji and Rukia there.

"Happy birthday, Ichi, Shiro" Rukia said, a small smile tilting her lips as she looked up at the boys who had once been amongst her best of friends. It saddened her that she hardly considered them very close anymore. At times like this, it was almost easy to forget what had happened.

"Yeah, happy birthday, guys!" Renji said, his smile much larger and his voice much happier.

The two birthday boys looked up at their old friends, smiles on their faces "Thanks!" They both said at once, in true twin fashion and startling Ichigo and Shiro.

Laughter erupted anew at the display. Renji abruptly stopped, eyes widening slightly before he cleared his throat and looked over to an equally stunned Rukia. Her eyes were wide and staring. Renji reached over and covered them with his hand. "Uhhhh..."

Shiro and Ichigo watched the odd display, Ichigo's brows furrowing. Shiro turned to follow the red heads gaze. "Happy birthday, indeed." He said, voice low and a bit husky.

Ichigo turned to see what his twin was talking about, face turning bright red as he stared at the man standing in the door way to the hall.

The werepanther they had brought in the night before stood in the entrance, still very much a man. His blue eyes roamed over each of the humans in turn, freezing them in place. The muscles in his abdomen bunched under golden skin as he flexed and shifted his stance, a very slight wince flashing across his chiseled features at the movement. In the light of day, the bruising and wounds from the fight were obvious, but they didn't detract from his looks and both twins were having a hard time not staring.

Everyone sat frozen for a few minutes before Renji finally spoke up and broke the spell. "Uhh, why the hell are you naked?" He exclaimed, covering his own eyes with his free hand.

The man's gaze shifted to the red head in a deadpan look, a single blue brow raising, and didn't justify the question with an answer.

Shiro snorted but didn't look away as he shamelessly stared at the attractive male presented to him, looking at the man from head to toe and everywhere in between.

Ichigo shot from his chair, sputtering an excuse as he rushed over to the naked man, careful to keep his eyes directed above the waist, not that there wasn't plenty to look at there too. He reached out for the man, ready to push him from the room and out of view from their guests.

The werecat instinctively tensed up, a deep, feline growl rumbling from his throat. He curled his lip, baring overly sharp looking, perfect white teeth.

Ichigo's brown eyes widened as he was reminded of what was standing in front of him. He halted his forward rush, holding his hands out to the side slightly, in a none threatening way. "Let's go find you something to wear, shall we?" He said quietly.

The man relaxed a little after Ichigo stopped moving, then stepped out of the door way for the orange haired man to walk through. "Why?" He asked, turning to follow the orange head.

Ichigo's face darkened a shade "Umm, well, because you can't walk around...like that" He said, passing by the man and leading the way down the hall.

Renji looked over to Shiro. "You should have just told us you guys had company..." He said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck and feeling very out of place.

Shiro snorted. "We don't have company."

"Who was that, then?" Rukia huffed, eyes still glued to the door way.

"Name's Grimmjow or somethin'." The albino said, shrugging and going back to his food "Don't worry about it, he ain't even human." Shiro said, stuffing the last bite of his breakfast in his mouth and acting like there hadn't just been a naked man standing in the door way.

"Weird name." Renji observed, also returning to his plate. "Wait... What did you say?"

Shiro looked up at him. "Grimmjow...?"

"No! You said he wasn't human!" Renji said, starting to freak out a little. The man had certainly looked human. The red head was starting to worry that Ichigo had repeated the event that had landed him in trouble originally. Though this man was certainly more colorful than Shiro.

Shiro seemed to catch onto his line of thought. "Don't worry, King didn't do anything." He said in a quiet voice. "He hasn't played with Necromancy since he brought me back."

"Oh, alright" The red head said, watching the way Shiro's eyes were directed on the floor now. It was a topic the pale twin had never liked talking about and Renji felt a slight pang of guilt for bringing it up. "What is he, then?" He asked, hoping to pull the attention away from Shiro's dark past.

"La Pantera." The deep, gravely voice caught the two guests off guard and both jumped and looked up to find the man they had been talking about standing in the door way again. Thankfully, the man was dressed this time, though not in much. He wore a pair of baggy, navy blue shorts that Renji recognized as being Shiro's. The rest of him was bare still.

"He refused to wear a shirt" Ichigo said, walking past the man to retake his seat. "Not that we have much that would fit him anyway." Grimmjow was quite a bit bigger than he and Shiro. Not only was he several inches taller than them, but he was also more built and muscular.

"What's a 'la pantera'?" Renji asked, looking back to the blue haired man.

"Forest monster." Shiro supplied for him, shooting a look at Ichigo then the bluenette.

The man sneered at him, the tip of sharp looking fang peeking out. His blue eyes flashed dangerously and Shiro could imagine feline ears laying back in threat.

Ichigo raised a brow at his brother. "Don't call him a monster." He looked back to the man. "You can sit, Grimmjow"

The man's blue eyes, swirling with something the orange head couldn't recognize, snapped to his form at hearing his name and Ichigo suppressed a shiver that tried to crawl up his spine.

The man watched Ichigo as he lowered himself to sit, cross legged, on the ground in front of them, in the same place he had been standing. No one said anything about the two empty chairs just a few feet away from him that he could have sat in.

The orange haired man had read that names often held power when one was dealing with ancient arts or entities and had been wondering how the werecat would react since he heard the wolf calling his name the night before. Granted, he was fairly sure La Pantera wasn't a type of demon, which the texts had said were the most susceptible to that sort of thing. But it certainly seemed like it meant something, if the man's reactions were any indication.

Grimmjow sat on the cold floor, staring at the orange haired Caster. He had felt the tug on his very being when the human had uttered his name in the command. He had felt compelled, but could have easily refused should he have chosen too. It wasn't enough to posses him or steal his free will, but it had still held power. The way his name had been spoken, laced with the magic that the man held in his palms, told him the Caster knew, or at least had an idea of what he was trying to do. The notion of how powerful this human had potential to become set his nerves on edge.

Grimmjow had dealt with a man who had held power over him before. The man had eventually let his guard slip and the werepanther had ended his life in a bloody mauling after years of struggling to free himself. He would not let that happen again. His instincts whispered that he should leave this dangerous human, but his curiosity danced with excitement that he couldn't ignore.

"So how ya feelin, kitty?" Shiro asked, addressing the werecat. He was starting to wonder if the man and King were telepathic now or something, with the way they were staring at one another. It put him on edge and a string of something pulled on his possessive and protective side. The only problem was that he couldn't tell which one the feeling was toward. Usually he felt that way toward Ichigo when King put himself in a potentially dangerous situation, but for some reason, something about the bluenette pulled at him as well. "Ya took quite a beatin' last night."

A low growl left the man's throat, his body visibly tensing. "Better than you would have faired, human."

Shirosaki grinned, but nodded his agreement all the same. The werepanther's voice had outwardly sounded like an irritated and indignant growl, but Shiro could hear what almost sounded like relief in the undertones and he wandered if it had something to do with whatever was transpiring between the cat and his master.

Rukia leaned closer to Renji, still watching the strange man from the corner of her violet eyes. "What is going on?" She whispered.

Renji shrugged and shook his head. Shiro and Ichi's new friend was strange.

A gurgling reached his ears, followed by the twins' laughter. The tension in the air disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving everyone feeling lighter and breathing easier.

"Hungry?" They both asked, looking at each other with mild surprise before turning back to the large man sitting on the floor.

The man averted his blue eyes, breaking eye contact with the other occupants before nodding his head ever so slightly.

Shiro smirked and stood up, heading to the kitchen. He grabbed everyone's dirty plates as he went and returned a few minutes later with a heaping plate for the werecat. He had skipped the pancakes, figuring the man would be more interested in the meat and eggs, seeing that he was a carnivorous beast.

He crossed the room toward the werecat, but his steps faltered as he neared the still sitting man. "Do ya even like cooked food?" He asked, genuinely curious. It stood to reason that the panther hunted and killed his prey like a normal predator.

Grimmjow raised a blue brow at the pale man. He nodded slightly again. "It has been a while, but I have lived among humans. I'm used to your culture." He said, his deep voice carrying easily, even in the quiet tone he was using. He sniffed the scents of cooked food in the air as he accepted the plate handed to him.

"Oh yeah?" Shiro said, backing up and taking his seat next to Ichigo again. He glanced at King, seeing his copy's curiosity practically bubbling in his swirling, brown eyes.

The blue haired man nodded. "Twice. The first was when I was still feared and worshipped as a Deidad. I often visited the humans." He said honestly. That had been long ago, when the world was a little different. He had lived in a temple located in the forest, humans would often seek his protection or luck in approaching battles, which he usually granted. He had even participated in a few human battles, lending his strength to his favored families or tribes. Now he was rarely seen at all, and when someone did catch a glimpse, they thought him a monster. He enjoyed his solitude though, and didn't really mind that he wasn't seen as something to worship anymore.

After a while, when the man didn't continue, Ichigo prodded a bit, unable to help himself. He wanted to know more, and now seemed as good a time as any since the unpredictable creature was already talking. "And the second?"

Grimmjow made a face, something of a sneer, and shook his head. "It doesn't matter." He told them, unwilling to speak of his time in servitude. He was no ones dog.

Ichigo frowned a bit, glancing at his brother. Shiro looked equally confused by the turn in the man's temper. Neither questioned it further and Ichigo motioned to the man's untouched food. "Going to eat?" He asked.

Grimmjow winced a bit, carefully picking up the fork he had been given and glanced at it. Of course he knew what it was and how to use it, but there was one issue. He set the utensil back down as the familiar, faint burn of silver settled into his finger tips. He huffed a quiet breath. "Got anything that isn't silver?" He asked, looking up at the two men who owned the house. Just because the cursed metal wouldn't kill him, didn't mean he enjoyed touching it, let alone sticking it in his mouth.

Shiro wanted to smack himself as he jumped up and went back into the kitchen. He hadn't even thought about it, he had just grabbed a fork from the same set the rest of them were using.

Digging through a drawer, he finally found the old set he and Ichigo still had. They never used it, but had kept it for whatever reason, now he was glad they had. Pulling a fork from the case, he reentered the room and tossed it to the werepanther. "sorry" he mumbled.

Grimmjow smirked and easily caught the projectile. A soft purring sound left his throat as he began eating.

Everyone in the room stared, eyes wide at the unexpected sound, but said nothing.

••••••

Black ears laid flat against his skull, the wolf neared the exit of the den. Nnoitra growled, desperately trying to ignore the burning itch in the left side of his face and pushed a smaller wolf out of his way.

The smaller beast gave a pitiful yelp, showing submission, and tried to slink away. It's actions only served to anger the already irritated wolf further and he lashed out, leaping on the lower ranking beast. He pinned the creature down, snarling and baring massive fangs in threat.

The smaller wolf whined and wiggled, but wasn't stupid enough to make a move against the higher ranking, more powerful Original.

The black wolf's growling and rage bubbled and grew.

Footsteps approached from his left. Nnoitra snapped his head around so that he could watch the figure approach with his good eye.

"Nnoitra." A deep baritone that could have only belonged to one wolf rumbled his name.

The black wolf snarled petulantly, but stood and released the smaller creature before stomping out of the cave. He needed to get some fresh air and blow off some steam.

"Don't go looking for him." Starrk's calm voice echoed toward him.

"Tch" Nnoitra rolled his eye, wincing at the feel of the severed muscles around where his left eye was twitching and trying to match their right counterparts. "Yeah, yeah. Kitty's off limits, got'cha." He snarled and sprang forward, quickly finding a ground devouring pace that would leave the den and pack behind.

••••••

He had finally been left alone, the humans having left the room to cut a cake, whatever that was. Some other type of food, Grimmjow had gathered. They had offered him a piece, but he declined, preferring the few minutes of solitude he would gain. After decades of being on his own, it was strangely taxing to be thrown under the watchful eyes of four curious humans. Maybe he was still just recovering from his fight.

Carefully, he peeled the cloth bandage away from his wounded shoulder, wrinkling his nose at the smell of some type of salve the Caster had applied while he had been unconscious.

The wound underneath was bruised a deep purple and green, starkly contrasted against the golden skin of his human body. The punctures were deep and Grimmjow could see the vibrant red of muscle were flesh had been torn away. It burned when the damaged area came into contact with the cool air of the room and the werepanther hoped the humans had at least cleaned the wolf saliva from his injuries. If they hadn't, it was going to be a lot more painful for him to deal with now, but it would make them heal faster.

He tuned out the hushed conversation going on in the other room. That female thought she was being quiet, but his keen ears picked up her voice easily. She was ranting about the two men bringing a monster into their home.

While the red head's curiosity and confusion was amusing, the female's attitude annoyed him. She rubbed him the wrong way and he could tell that she didn't like him, nor did she care much for the pale man. She seemed to classify them in the same category, though she wouldn't say it out loud.

Grimmjow wondered what it was about the near-albino that no one liked, but he had put enough pieces together to get the general idea of the situation. Humans had always been rather closed minded about these sort of things.

Going back to checking his wounds, the werecat sucked in a harsh breath, which he held, and squeezed his eyes shut. When his dizziness faded, he slowly let the held breath hiss between his teeth and opened his eyes, continuing his check again.

The worse of his wounds were still sore, certain movements pulling and threatening to reopen them. If he were back at his den in the forest, he wouldn't even have bothered dragging himself out of sleep. He would have been resting, saving his strength and letting his body heal.

Grimmjow sighed and leaned back in the chair he had climbed into after the rest had left the room. He allowed his eyes to close, entering an almost meditative state, and tried to focus on his wounds. His hazy mind seemed to have other ideas though, and he found it hard to concentrate has sleep tried to pull at his weary body.

••••••

"Soooo..." Renji said as the swinging door came to a stop, effectively closing them off from the strange, blue haired man in the other room. He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the door "What exactly is up with him?"

Shiro snorted, turning to Ichigo and raising an ashen brow.

Ichigo rolled is chocolate brown eyes, grabbing a knife to cut the cake with. He sighed and began telling the red head what he knew. "His name is Grimmjow, I don't know if he has a last name." He said, walking over to the table that held the large birthday cake.

Rukia grabbed the knife from him, shoeing him away, and began to cut it for everyone.

"He... is a werefolk" Ichigo continued, not sure how Renji and Rukia would take the news.

Renji frowned. "Wait, he's a... like a werewolf?" He asked. This was not his expertise, but he had heard of the monsters that lurked the forest and believed the stories. He believed in magic and the arts, why not in mythological and deadly beasts?

Ichigo shrugged lightly "Kind of, but he's feline, not canine and seems to hate the wolves." Ichigo paused, trying to decide just how much to reveal. "We don't really know all that much about him. He saved me from werewolves several weeks ago and then kind of disappeared for a while."

Shiro snorted, but didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up for Ichigo. "Last night, the werewolves attempted ta get through King's defenses and the beast showed up ta take care a them." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the counter.

Rukia stopped cutting the cake, using the knife to point toward the door. "And you just let that monster in? You know nothing about it, it kills a bunch of animals, and you let it in?"

"He's hardly a monster, and he wasn't killing animals, he was killing werewolves." Ichigo said, trying to keep the biting tone out of his words.

"Oh, even better. So it's strong enough to kill werewolves and monsters, and you take it in?" She huffed back at him.

Shiro glared at the small woman. "HE, not IT, surely ya got the same display the rest a us did this morning." He said.

Rukia, face turning the slightest shade of red, started to speak, but Shiro cut her off. "and what were we supposed ta do? Leave him ta die? The werewolves would'a killed him if we left him out there. Ya should've seen how torn up he was."

The raven haired girl narrowed her eyes at the pale twin, but didn't say anything. She gave an indignant huff and turned back to the cake.

••••••

Starrk watched Nnoitra storm from the den. The big male was agitated, not that Starrk blamed him, but he was going to get himself into trouble. The alpha knew how Nnoitra's mind worked, the wolf would go straight to the sight of the battle from the night before, even if he didn't intend to.

The pack leader stifled a yawn and turned from the entrance of the cave to find Lilynette. She wasn't hard to find, she had either been in his shadow, or hiding in her room since she had gotten back and as he turned a corner to head to her room, he nearly tripped over the smaller she-wolf.

"Lilynette." Starrk reached down and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to pay attention. "Do not go anywhere. Stay in the den, keep the pack in the den. Do you understand?" His voice made it clear he would not tolerate any misbehavior.

The smaller wolf nodded. "Where are you going?"

Starrk gave a tired sigh and turned to head back to the exit of their lair. "Probably to save Nnoitra." He said, voice a slow drawl.

At the entrance, he addressed the sentry and gave the large beast the same commands he had given Lily. "No one leaves."

The werewolf nodded his understanding and Starrk took off into the forest.

Nnoitra's trail was easy enough to follow. It was clear the black beast hadn't tried to hide his location, probably not even realizing he was heading in the direction of the battle field.

Starrk followed his underling, careful to give the wolf his space, staying several miles behind and out of sight. He would wait and see what happened before he interfered.

••••••

Grimmjow was jerked out of his light nap by a pressure on his arm. He jumped from the chair he had curled up in, nearly knocking the thing over, and let out a warning hiss. He bared his teeth and crouched, readying himself for anything and hoping he would be able to handle it quickly. The room seemed to spin and he was dizzy, vision slightly blurred from springing up so quickly in his still weakened state.

As his vision cleared and he regained his balance, it became clear what had woken him and he settled down. He tilted his head to the side and relaxed, lowering himself to the ground.

In front of him, the Caster, Ichigo, as the others had called him, was sprawled on the hard floor. He was leaning back on one elbow, his other arm thrown in front of him as if to fend off his attacker. His eyes were wide and his breathing a little quick, but as Grimmjow relaxed, so did he.

"You scared the shit out of me..." Ichigo said quietly, closing his eyes and falling backward to lay on the floor. He brought his hand to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

From near the door way, the pale man and the red head chuckled. Grimmjow allowed a smirk to cross his features as well and crawled silently closer to the Caster. He braced his arms on either side of Ichigo's head, hovering over the smaller male. "The feeling is mutual." He rumbled, looking down at the orange haired man.

Ichigo jumped at the proximity of the deep voice, opening his eyes and ready to scramble to his feet. He froze, however, when his eyes locked with deep, swirling blue. Grimmjow's eyes were captivating, colored with so many shades of azure, like the surface of a deep, clear sea. They shone as if lit by the very stars themselves.

Only a few inches separated them and Ichigo held his breath. The man was just looking at him with those eyes, studying him and... "Are you... sniffing me?" He asked, afraid to move.

Grimmjow tilted his head a little, still looking down at the smaller man below him. "Not you, per say." He said, gauging the Caster's reaction. "Your magic has a unique scent."

The room had gone strangely quiet, but the two men on the floor ignored it, wrapped up in what the other was doing.

Grimmjow raised one of his hands, balancing and supporting his weight with his right arm. He cautiously moved his hand, settling it to lay flat on Ichigo's chest. Warm, chocolaty eyes widened in surprise and curiosity. Grimmjow enjoyed how expressive the man's eyes were.

Ichigo lay unmoving, feeling the larger man's body heat wrap around him like a blanket. He moved in a careful way, almost as if he were afraid of scaring a small animal, like he was trying not to scare the Caster. Ichigo watched the way the sculpted muscles bunched and flexed in the man's bared chest and shoulders as he shifted his weight to his right arm and lifted the left.

When the man rested his free hand on Ichigo's chest, the orange head let his brows draw together. "Wh...what are you doing?" He breathed.

"I can hear your heart beat." Grimmjow answered, unmoving while he felt what his ears had already told him. "It's fast, like fear. But strong and steady, not like fear." He held still, not a single muscle twitching, as he searched the smaller man's face for clues to what he was thinking. "If not fear, what is it, then, Ichigo?" He practically purred out.

Human names couldn't hold power the way his could, but in his experience, his voice could do the same. The boy's reaction was all he needed to know exactly what was running through his head.

A shiver ran down Ichigo's spine at the deep tone his name had been rumbled in. The man's voice was as sinful as the rest of him and Ichigo could feel his body responding. He raised his own hand, lightly pushing at the tanned arm holding him down. He needed to get up, get this man off of him before he did something stupid.

Grimmjow smirked and sat back on his haunches, leaving the Caster's immediate personal space and giving the man room to sit up.

Ichigo climbed to his feet, taking a step away from the blue haired feline still sitting on the floor. He looked over at the other three people in the room, eyes a little wide. He still wasn't sure what had just happened. The looks on his guests' faces told him they were just as uncertain.

His twin wore a small smirk, though and the man shrugged his shoulders. "Kitty likes ta play wit his prey?" He said quietly, more questioning then stating.

Rukia stepped forward, shaking herself from her surprised stupor and coming to a conclusion. "He's a freak. He'll make a great addition to your collection, Kurosaki." She said, shooting a glare at Shiro and stomping past a stunned Ichigo. She had had enough. She didn't like being around the pale copy of Ichigo's dead brother, and the blue haired monster was pushing her over the edge.

Grimmjow looked up the Caster. Shock and hurt were written all over his features as he watched the small woman turn down the hall way. He looked to the red head, who was sputtering and looking from Ichigo to the door way, at a complete loss about what to do. He then turned his attention to the near-albino.

Shiro sneered in the direction the bitch had stormed away, happy when he heard the front door slam shut. He rushed to King's side, placing a comforting hand on his sagging shoulder.

Ichigo turned to him, eyes still wide, his brows furrowed. "Come 'ere, King" Shiro whispered, pulling Ichigo to him and wrapping his arms around his obviously hurt copy.

Ichigo returned the embrace, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. He was always overly sensitive to the way people talked about and treated Shiro. He hated that most of society didn't accept his twin. It wasn't Shiro's fault he was the way he was, after all. If anyone was to fault, Ichigo felt it was himself.

Renji took a few tentative steps forward, still at a loss. He looked at the brothers, and hated what Rukia had just done. "Ah, guys... I'm sorry for that, I don't know what's gotten into her..."

Shiro peeked over King's shoulder at him, his gold on black eyes shining with malice, but not toward the red head. "Don't worry 'bout it, Red. S'not yer fault." He said quietly, feeling Ichigo nod his agreement.

The sound of the door flying open echoed down the hall, followed by Rukia's yelling. "Renji! Are you coming or do I have to leave your ass here?"

Renji stiffened, about to throw an angry retort back at her, but Ichigo peeled himself away from Shiro. "Don't worry, Renji. Go ahead, we understand." He said, a slight smile tilting his lips. "I'm glad you came over, you need to visit more often."

The red head smiled, anger starting to cool off a bit at the way his friend was ignoring what the woman had just done. "Yeah, me too. I'll try not to wait so long for my next visit" He said, walking to the hall way. He turned back to face them for a moment, waving to the twins. Then he looked to the blue haired man that was still sitting on the floor. "Umm, nice to meet you" he added, then followed Rukia out the door.

••••••

Nnoitra sniffed around the carcass of one of the wolves that had died while he and Lilynette escaped. The air reeked of fear, pain and death.

Each of his dead kin had met a ghastly end at the hands of the werepanther. The cat had ever been known for his brutality and ferocity and it showed in his fighting. All the wolves had suffered grievous wounds before being finished off, but it looked like Starrk's words had been true. There was quite a bit of feline blood tainting the air as well. They had fought and died well.

He stepped around the bodies of the two worst victims, making his way toward the dark shape that announced the fourth body. This one was smaller, cause of death was a broken spine and a slit throat.

The wound that had killed the first of the wolves he came across had looked suspiciously like a bullet hole, where it had shot through the big creature's temple. Nnoitra had easily smelled the silver emanating from the carcass.

Nnoitra bent to study the beast's torn throat. It was too clean to have been made by the cat's claws. He had seen what that looked like on one of the other dead wolves. This was a blade wound. And, it seemed, made by a silver blade.

Shouted words startled him from his thoughts. The voice was distinctly female, and judging from the tone, a very angry one at that. Nnoitra let a cruel grin stretch his black lips and set off to investigate.

He silently and swiftly padded his way to the edge of the trees, to the clearing that the human home was located in. The wolf was careful to watch his steps and not get to close, he wouldn't be able to get in anyway. He would have to wait for them to come to him.

Soon enough, his patience was rewarded. A small, black haired female human and a male with a wild red mane emerged from the building. They headed around the front, toward an out building. Nnoitra knew they must have stabled horses there for the day, this building rested to far from the small roads for a vehicle to make the trip.

Horses were big animals, some of them could even be fairly fierce, but they were easy to spook and the werewolf easily matched the weight of the two the human's had.

The shouting continued, though in a slightly quieter manner than had originally alerted the wolf. They were so wrapped up in arguing with each other that Nnoitra could have walked right up to them.

He let a smile mar his scared features when the horses began tossing their heads, nostrils flared to take in his scent. The humans didn't stand a chance.

The woman screamed as he finally showed himself, catching the male's horse by surprise and spooking the beast.

The horse reared and screamed. In it's haste to get away from the large beast, it tripped and crashed to the ground, pinning it's rider under it's weight as the werewolf descended upon it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Cliff hanger? maybe a little... oops! sorry guys, can't let the characters off too easily XD<br>And I postponed the naked goodness, it's still on the way though, and will be well worth the wait *wink***

**Anyway, what do you think?  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Back to my element, blood and violence (skipping the cute crap) ^_^**

**A nice, long chapter for you guys  
>Enjoy~<br>**

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><p>A blood curdling scream tore through the air. Ichigo and Shiro were instantly on their feet, scrambling toward the front door, panic making their hearts pound heavily against their ribs.<p>

Above the sound of hoofs and the scream of horses, Rukia cried out for Renji, the desperation and fear evident in her voice. There had been no warnings, no clues or signs that anything was amiss. No howling or snarling; nothing had tripped the barrier.

Shrio grabbed his gun as he flew through the door, Ichigo on his heels. He vaguely noted that Grimmjow had taken off toward the forest, his lithe frame covering the flat ground of their yard with ease and grace no normal man could match.

The albino slid to a halt, leveling the gun at the monstrous, black werewolf that crouched over a downed horse. He could see that Renji was pinned beneath the bleeding and panicked animal. The only thing keeping him from being ripped apart by the wolf was the thrashing horse. He repeatedly yelled for Rukia to stay back, all the while struggling to free himself so he could flee while the wolf was occupied.

Sliding the safety from his gun, the albino cocked it and began re-aiming at the wolf. Beside him, Ichigo grabbed the screaming woman, holding her so she couldn't get herself killed or in the way.

"Hurry, Shiro..." Ichigo half whispered, half yelled when the wolf's sharp ears perked toward them as his twin loaded his gun.

The wolf stopped gouging at the horse, a sickly smile disappearing from it's face as it looked up at them. Blood and bile dripped from it's maw and it glanced to the gun, nostrils flaring. Never letting it's grayish eye leave the weapon, it reached down and snapped the horses neck with a single, easy motion. With it's fun ruined and the animal out of the way, it made a grab for Renji.

A roaring hiss echoed through out the forest before three hundred pounds of black beast hurtled at the wolf, catching it by surprise. Shock flitted over the beast's scarred features and the wolf threw it's long arms up in defense, blocking the angry cat.

Grimmjow latched long, curved fangs around a forearm, snarling around the limb as he let his body weight and momentum carry him and the wolf to the ground. The two beasts thrashed around; a snarling, spitting mass of black fur and muscle, their combined weight pushing over a thousand pounds.

Shiro darted to Renji's side, helping the red head out from under the dead horse and dragging him back to where Ichi and Rukia huddled. The woman lurched from Ichigo's grasp, flinging herself at Renji, tears streaming down her face.

The red head was splashed with blood and gore, but he assured them most of it was the horse's as he wrapped his tattooed arms around the small woman.

They were inside the magical barrier, as safe as they could get, but Grimmjow was still on the outside of it. He was fighting a wolf that more than doubled his size while he was still recovering from injuries.

The four of them watched, unable to help, while the cat battled.

"Shiro" Ichigo practically whined, scooting closer to his twin. He grasped the back of his brother's shirt, wide eyes staring over his shoulder at the fighting creatures. "Can't you shoot it?"

"If I get a clear shot, but wit' the way they're thrashin' about..." Shiro shook his head and crept forward as the wolf and cat rolled further into the forest. He could see that Grimmjow was doing his best to keep the big wolf on the ground, trying to keep as much leverage away from the larger monster as possible.

Renji joined him, Shiro's other silver gun in his red stained hands. He was trembling slightly from fear and adrenaline, but he held the weapon steady enough. "That's... Is that...?" The red head began, eyes never leaving the fight.

"Yep. That's Grimmjow." Shiro stalked around to the left, trying to get to a better angle, never taking his eyes from the fight. They needed this to end quickly. He really didn't want to see the cat get hurt any further. Time was running out, he could see that what little energy the cat had was beginning to drain, his breath already coming in harsh, snarling pants.

The two beasts tumbled from view, further into the thick undergrowth. A canine yelp reached their ears, followed by the thump of a heavy body hitting the ground. All was still for a moment, then the leaves rustled and Shiro and Renji both tensed, training their guns on the spot. "Silver wont kill 'im" Shiro quickly explained to Renji, unsure of the situation before them or what they may end up having to do, "But it'll turn 'im human again."

Renji nodded, understanding what Shiro was getting at. If they happened to graze the cat with a bullet, he would be reduced to his human form and the wolf would tear him apart if it wasn't dead. Every shot had to count.

••••••

The werecat cursed the female for putting everyone in this situation. He had figured the pale man would hesitate with his shot, not wanting to harm his friend. Weather it be accidently hitting the man or downing the giant wolf on top of the human, either would have probably killed the red head.

Grimmjow's little stunt had saved the man's life, but was costing him dearly. He hadn't been ready to exert so much energy, especially in his release form. He could feel his body trembling, not healed enough from the previous night for this kind of strain. The larger wounds in his chest and shoulder had reopened with his first strike, weeping to mix with the blood caused by new gashes from the wolf's claws.

The color of the werewolf's lone eye told him that it was an original, no push over like the others, even had he been at his peek. This mutt was one of Starrk's direct underlings, almost at the top of the Pack. It wasn't likely that he would be able to kill this one, not in this condition.

As they battled, Grimmjow studied the creature, looking for weaknesses, watching it's fighting style, anything he could use against the wolf. It's missing eye seemed to be the most obvious and only thing he could exploit. Everything else about the wolf's movements and attacks flowed almost seamlessly, putting Grimmjow's injured body to the test.

The beast looked familiar, and the werecat put the pieces together as he struck from it's blind side. A weakness he had given the mutt the night before. It was obvious the wolf hadn't learned how to fully compensate for the loss of his right eye yet.

Grimmjow listened, with satisfaction, as the massive wolf yelped and hit the ground. He knew it wasn't a decisive blow, but he hoped it would be enough to give him the time he needed to get away. If he could get back to the humans, Shiro would be able to finish the wolf with his silver.

He pushed through the underbrush, listening to the wolf thrash about on the ground as it clutched at it's face. He staggered closer to the clearing and was met with the sight of Shiro and the red head, silver hand guns trained toward him. He let a breath of relief hiss between his teeth when the two humans lowered the weapons away from his form, then he stumbled another step forward.

"Watch out!" It was the deep voice of the red head, his tattooed features twisted with shock and horror.

The werepanther spun just in time to catch the flying beast's out stretched claws. The werewolf's weight drove his smaller form to the hard packed earth, knocking the air from his lungs and pinning him. Before Grimmjow could regain his senses and react, massive fangs were circling his vulnerable throat. He brought his hands up, grabbing at the wolf's jaws, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hold this wolf off like he had the other.

The mutt lifted him off the ground slightly, then drug him around to face the opposite direction, taking no longer than a heart beat to move him and pin him again. The quick motion confused Grimmjow, but he quickly realized the wolf was shifting so it could watch the humans with it's good eye, it's one hand was outstretched toward them, motioning for them to stop. The jaws closed fractionally, making the werecat grit his teeth, the breath wheezing from his constricted throat, showing how easily it could kill him.

But the wolf didn't pressure any further, instead, it growled and addressed the humans, watching them with a wary eye.

"Shoot me, and you'll never pry my jaws off a him in time." The wolf's deep voice, muffled slightly from holding onto Grimmjow, spoke with a determination that no one wished to challenge.

To emphasize his point, the beast squeezed a little tighter, effectively shutting off Grimmjow's air supply.

The werecat bared his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut and tried frantically to pry the jaws from around his throat. He kicked at the beast, desperate to get away, but the wolf only squeezed tighter until Grimmjow stilled, struggling against a wave of dizziness that threatened to steal his consciousness.

After what felt like forever, the wolf relented a bit. Grimmjow drew in a harsh breath, coughing as sweet oxygen entered his lungs again. After a few panting breaths, the cat let a strained smile stretch across his features.

"What's the matter? Angry I took your eye?" He laughed a bit as a snarl vibrated against his esophagus. The laughter was strained and humorless. He needed to find a way out of this predicament. As it was, they were at a stalemate, his life hanging in the balance.

Movement from their right side drew Grimmjow's attention, the sound obviously catching the big wolf's attention as well. His ears swiveled toward the foot steps as he turned his head to look with his remaining eye.

Grimmjow couldn't quite stifle the pained whimper the action caused as he was drug and shifted by his throat, sharp teeth drawing blood.

••••••

Shiro and Renji watched the big wolf prove it's point, cutting off the werecat's oxygen. They held their weapons at the ready, but neither was willing to put the monster's promise to the test.

The albino found himself glad that King wasn't within sight, still keeping Rukia in the safety of their barrier. He had taken a liking to the cat and would probably do something stupid.

The cat taunted the beast, but the pale man could hear the strain in his voice. He could practically see the cat's mind working, looking for a way out of the situation he was in. His impossibly blue eyes swirled, the slightest hint of fear in their depths, as his thoughts raced.

A figure stepped from the surrounding forest on the other side of the struggling creatures. Shiro recognized it as the leader of the Pack. The one that had demanded to see Grimmjow after the battle the night before. It's cloudy eyes roamed from him and Renji to the wolf under his command and the cat, taking in the situation.

Shiro watched the new arrival, training his gun on it and motioning for Renji to keep his trained on the black wolf. This wolf was slightly smaller than the large black one, though he certainly looked just as deadly. His calm eyes shone with the intelligence and confidence of an accomplished and skilled predator.

"They kill him, and neither of 'em make it home." Shiro whispered to the red head. Renji nodded.

The new wolf finally drew the black one's attention, the beast pivoting so that it could see what approached. Shiro winced as Grimmjow whimpered quietly, the cat gritting his teeth as he held as still as possible.

"St..." The cat paused as teeth constricted slightly. "Starrk." He said in a rough voice, watching the Pack leader from the corner of his eyes.

"Grimmjow." The new wolf greeted back, slightly tipping his head to the cat. He stepped forward, looking up at the human's that had their guns trained on Nnoitra and himself.

"Why don' ya just go back ta wherever ya came from?" Shiro asked the brown wolf, inching closer to the beasts in the forest. Throwing a second werewolf into the mix didn't seem to bode well for the hapless cat he was trying to save.

"Hnn..." The wolf looked away from the man, dismissing him, and crouched down to look at the werecat. "Quite the predicament, Nnoi." He said, tilting his head to the side as he studied the cat's wounds. "They have silver bullets."

Nnoitra didn't move a muscle, letting the alpha get as close as he wanted. "I ain't lettin' go." He said, voice quiet and even. "They shoot and I'll kill him."

Grimmjow snorted a harsh laugh, gasping slightly for air as he did so. "You kill me and they'll shoot. Do you really think you're going to leave here alive without letting me go?" He said, addressing the wolf clutching him in it's jaws.

He slowly extended his arm toward the humans, careful not to make any sudden movements that could be misconstrued as an attack as he gently patted the air, trying to stay Shiro's hand. Now that Starrk was here, Grimmjow stood a chance. The alpha wolf had always been level headed and calm, willing to accept when he had lost.

The humans couldn't hear all of what was being said, but Shiro was willing to trust the cat, it was his life, after all. The werepanther had an arm outstretched toward them, telling them not to fire as he continued talking to the wolves.

"Shiro."

Shiro jumped as his name was whispered, the voice right beside his ear. He had been so focused on the monsters in front of him he hadn't heard King join them. The pale man internally groaned and hoped his pale copy wouldn't try rushing off to the cat's aid like the night before.

"I've got an idea, but it might stun him a bit..." Ichigo whispered as quietly as he could with his twin still being able to hear him. He watched the creatures before them, the stalemate between the three of them was obvious and not looking favorable.

Ichigo looked past his twin to Renji, making sure he was paying attention too. He nodded to the red head, then turned his gaze back to the werepanther and his captors. The situation was taking a turn, going south by the minute.

Neither man could hear what was being said anymore, but Grimmjow had his jaw clenched, teeth bared as he looked from one wolf to the other. His body was rigid and tense, the end of his tail twitching nervously. Other wise, he held completely still.

The brown wolf said something, his voice too quiet to carry to them. It's eyes darted to Grimmjow for a moment, then back to his subordinate. A deep, threatening growl rose to fill the silence. The black wolf took a step backward, away from the brown one, dragging the smaller werecat with him.

A slight whimper followed the movement as Grimmjow's hands shot up to grasp at the wolf's jaws again.

"Alright, King, what was that idea a yers?" Shiro asked, seeing that the situation didn't seem to be getting any better.

Ichigo watched the events unfold with wide eyes. "Be ready..." he whispered before he closed his eyes and a soft chanting fell from his lips. He could feel the tingle of the runes inked into his wrists turn to a burn as he summoned power.

Shrio's eyes widened before he readied himself as best he could. Ichi had said he may be stunned, that could mean anything. So he prepared for the worst, keeping his gun ready while he tensed up.

Renji's reaction was much the same. He looked at Ichigo, a mix of confusion, awe and fear showing on his features, before he looked back to the situation unfolding before them. He took a deep breath as he heard Ichigo's soft chanting pick up in cadence.

The air crackled slightly, ripples of power disrupting the breeze. The werepanther's eyes widened in recognition as the spicy, yet cold smell of the Caster's magic washed over them. His struggling renewed as he felt the wolf above him tense up.

Both wolves looked up at the same time, Nnoitra lifting a struggling Grimmjow from the ground as he glared at the human. They realized what was happening a split second too late.

Power rippled out from Ichigo, crashing into the three struggling beast's like waves against a jagged cliff. It was the same type of magic he used in the barrier, just more focused and refined, still targeting the wolves more than the cat. He had just recently learned how to do this and he hoped it would work.

The electric-like power jolted through the beasts. Pained, screeching yelps tore from the throats of the wolves as they were thrown from their feet by the force of the crashing waves.

Nnoitra's muscles convulsed and spasmed, forcing his jaws to first tighten fractionally, then involuntarily open. He didn't see or feel the cat slip from his grip as pain lanced through his body, clouding his vision. He vaguely registered hitting the ground and rolling to a stop, but still, he couldn't move as his muscles continued to spasm and twitch. He felt the heavy thud of Starrk's body hitting the ground near him before his leader rolled into view.

The brown wolf's jaws were clenched, teeth bared as he also twitched and whined, the same power ripping through his body as well. Both wolves howled in agony and struggled against the magic that permeated their bodies.

Shiro gaped as he watched the air ripple out from Ichigo's body. Pained howling snapped him back to earth and he grabbed Renji's wrist, dragging the red head forward with him.

The werepanther had been thrown from the convulsing wolf's jaws to land heavily on the ground. Shiro could see he wasn't feeling quite the same effects as the wolves, but he was certainly feeling something unpleasant.

He lay on his back, eyes wide as he stared, unseeing, at the canopy above. His back arched and a pained whine made it's way from his abused throat at the same time as one of the wolves yelped, another wave of power washing over them.

The albino slid to a halt on his knees beside the stunned cat, uncertain of what to do. He touched Grimmjow's arm, pulling an angry and slightly frightened hiss from the beast. "Grimmjow? Ya hear me?"

Wide, blue eyes flicked to his form, slow to focus on him. The cat's breaths were a little short, but he seemed to be regaining his senses slowly. He struggled to right himself, stumbling in the direction the humans indicated, but another wave of power rippled through him. He tripped, falling to his knees, grunting and clenching his jaw.

From a few meters away, the wolves snarled and howled in pain, bodies spasming and twitching.

"Hurry!" Ichigo ground out, his voice thick and strained as he struggled to keep the magic he had cast going. He didn't want to find out how long it would take for the wolves to recover after he released his hold.

Shiro raised his gun to aim at the brown werewolf, thinking to eliminate the problem, but Grimmjow's hand clutched his arm, dragging the gun away from it's target. He didn't understand, but didn't have time to contemplate. Instead, he and Renji began half dragging the cat toward Ichigo and the barrier, where they would be safe.

"Dammit, cat! Veer already, ya aint ganna be able to get through like this anyway!" The albino practically shouted at the werepanther. The cat was heavy like this, making them slower as they helped him. He could see King struggling and tiring and knew they wouldn't have much time.

Grimmjow, dazed as he was by the Caster's magic, was slow to respond. "A little closer." He growled out, still forcing his body to move. As they neared the barrier, he did as Shiro had suggested, promptly collapsing as the force of veering from his resurrection to his human body used up the last of his dwindling energy.

Shiro and Renji grunted and staggered as the man's full weight descended upon them. They pulled him the last few feet, through the barrier before swinging around to find Ichigo.

The Caster followed behind them, dropping to his knees beside the barely conscious werecat and panting harshly. The man furrowed his blue brows at him before speaking in a quiet, horse voice. "damn..." was all he said, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Ichigo chuckled, a small smile crossing his lips as he tilted his head back to look up at his twin and Renji.

The two men stared down at him, both equally shocked and impressed.

"Lets get inside before the wolves get back up, yeah?" Renji whispered, eyes a little wide.

Without a word, Shiro wrapped a pale arm around King's waist, helping the man to his feet and headed toward their home. Renji bent and hoisted the bigger bluenette to his feet, making a face as he realized the man was naked again. Not that it mattered, the man was hardly conscious and Renji more drug him then supported him.

Rukia ran to his side, tears still streaking her face. She clutched at Renji's sleeve as they slowly made their way toward the front door, but refused to touch the panther turned man.

••••••

Ichigo took a deep, steadying breath and stepped away from his twin's solid support once they made it into the sitting room. Shiro shot him a worried look, but the orange head assured him he was fine. He turned to watch Renji shrug through the front door, an injured and bleeding werecat in tow.

"When the hell did ya learn that, King?" Shiro's watery voice asked, still blown away by the power Ichigo had displayed.

"I figured it out by accident while trying to strengthen the barrier the other day" He answered, smirking a little. He motioned for Renji to deposit the werecat in one of the chairs. "I'm just glad it mostly worked"

Shiro grunted at his words, then left the room, returning a few moments later with a blanket and an old towel. He dropped the blanket across the man's lap, hiding his naked lower body. Handing the towel to Ichigo, he motioned for Renji to follow him.

"Come on, Red. Let's get ya cleaned up and make sure yer ok" He said quietly, turning down the hall and heading toward the wash room.

Renji followed after him, already checking himself over for cuts and gashes that could have been caused by the wolf. As he had told them before, most of the blood and gore on him was from the butchered horse, but he would be happy to clean off at least. He was lucky, he got away virtually untouched, just a few scrapes and bruises from the horse. He would have to be sure to thank the cat as soon as the man was more alert.

Rukia silently trailed behind him, feeling a little awkward and still terrified.

Ichigo left to get a bowl of hot water from the kitchen. When he returned, the werepanther had his eyes squeezed shut, as if in pain. His chest heaved slightly, still obviously out of breath from his excursion and injuries. He quivered slightly, muscled abdomen flexing and relaxing in uneven intervals that Ichigo doubted the man was even aware of, almost as if electricity was forcing it's self out of his abused body.

"Cold?" he asked, unfolding the blanket in the man's lap to cover more of him. He knew that wasn't what was causing the man to shiver. He could feel his magic seeping from the bluenette's body, leaving him drained, exhausted and trembling. Ichigo could only wander what the wolves, for whom the magic had been shaped, were feeling.

"No." He said in a rough voice. He pried hazy eyes open to watch the Caster as the human dipped the towel into the hot water. "I need to stop hanging around you." He said, no heat or anger to his tired sounding words.

Ichigo gave him an apologetic, yet curious look. He rang the water from the towel and started gently clearing away some of the blood and dirt smeared across the man's broad, sculpted chest.

Grimmjow bared his teeth as the cloth laved over a deep gash, but did his best to hold still. His instincts screamed that he shouldn't be letting someone so close while he was injured, that he was putting himself in a dangerous position. But he ignored it, keeping a wary eye on the Caster instead.

"Seems... Seems I'm constantly forced to relinquish my resurrection when we meet." He answered the Caster's curious look. A quiet whimper left his abused throat as the Caster moved to begin cleaning the puncture wounds from the wolf's teeth.

"sorry..." Ichigo mumbled, apologizing because of what the man said and the obvious pain he was in. He worked as carefully and quickly as he could, concentrating on the task at hand and trying to ignore the heat that radiated from the body before him.

The man's voice sounded tired, words a bit slurred and Ichigo silently prayed that he wouldn't pass out.

"Does it always hurt to...change?" He asked, wanting to keep the bluenette talking as well as being genuinely curious about it.

"No." Grimmjow squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth a bit before continuing. "No. Only when I'm forced to change, like when silver pierces my flesh." He explained, not really sure why he was telling a human these things. "The magic you used made it hard to veer. I had to force my resurrection away, usually I just...sort of slip in and out of it." He said, shrugging lightly. It was a difficult thing to explain.

Ichigo nodded. He didn't really understand exactly what he meant, but he got the general idea. He continued cleaning the feline's wounds, taking note of how the man finally seemed to be relaxing a bit. His mind wandered to other things about the cat, what he wanted to know, what he should ask the man, how to keep him talking and awake.

Ichigo was rather curious about the understanding the cat and the leader of the wolf pack seemed to have between them. He would have thought that the two would have been rivals, sworn enemies even. Felines and canines weren't supposed to get along, yet they almost seemed like they could have been friends under different circumstances.

Just as he opened his mouth to form his question, a quiet groan escaped the blue haired man's throat and a big hand grasped his arm, halting him in his cleaning. The hand squeezed, almost pushing him away, but still holding him from moving, like the bluenette wasn't sure which he was trying to do.

The Caster looked up at the man, thinking that he must have hurt him. "Hey, you ok?" He asked when he saw the man's face.

Blue brows were scrunched together in an almost determined way, his eyes unfocused and cloudy. When he didn't respond, not even glancing toward Ichigo, the orange haired man started to get worried.

He stood from his knees, bending to be on level with the werecat. "Hey...Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, softly shaking the arm that was out stretched to grasp at him.

The grip on his arm loosened, the hand falling away as blue eyes rolled back and the man's body slumped forward.

Ichigo cursed softly and grabbed at the unconscious man, catching him before he could fall to the floor.

••••••

Starrk shakily climbed to his feet, muscles still twitching slightly at random moments. He couldn't believe the power that had been behind the assaulting waves of magic. It was the strongest he had been hit with in a long time. His stomach revolted at the sudden motion and a low groan escaped as the world spun. He stumbled to Nnoitra's side.

The big, black wolf lay, curled in on himself, on his right side. The wound from his missing left eye was clotted over, the bleeding slowed to a slight weeping. Starrk could tell the cat had gotten in another shot to the area, the jagged claw marks red and puckered.

Slowly, Nnoitra's body began to relax, a heavy, panting sigh hissing between clenched teeth. Starrk reached down and helped his underling his feet.

"What...the hell was that?" Nnoitra asked, lone eye wide as he searched the surrounding forest for signs of the humans or cat. He found none, they had already left and he was a little surprised they hadn't killed Starrk and himself.

"No idea." The Pack leader answered, heading in the direction of their den. "But I don't want to stick around and find out." He looked back over his shoulder, in the direction of the human home and silently congratulated Grimmjow. The werecat had found himself powerful new allies.

Nnoitra grunted and stumbled after him, raising his hand to brush at the gashes and scare tissue marring the left half of his face. The last of the magic was still working it's way out of his body, causing his muscles to jerk every few moments and his missing eye itched worse than it had before.

••••••

Feathery touches caressed his abdomen, gentle and soothing. The warm touches slowly pulled away the haze of unconsciousness and lured him toward wakefulness. Blue brows drew together as another light touch tickled across his rib cage.

Grimmjow groaned, the sound quiet and rough as it vibrated in his chest. The touches stopped and he lay still, mind still trying to crawl out of a heavy, fogged sleep. After a few moments, the touches continued, lighter, softer than before, tracing the planes of his abs.

The touches moved lower over his body, hesitating at his waste line. The muscles of his abdomen flexed of their own accord as his body began responding to the warm fingers brushing over his heated skin. Grimmjow could feel his lower half stir awake, his member brushing cool fabric.

Blue eyes slowly opened to stare at the ceiling. Mind still heavy, Grimmjow was slow to register what was going on around him.

He lay flat on his back, the lighting of the room around him dim, but not dark. He could feel the light weight of thin sheets draped across his lower body and the cool, silken material that he was laying on. The bed dipped slightly off to his right from the weight of a body, someone sitting on the mattress next to him. Heat radiated off that body like a furnace, wrapping him in a slightly suffocating, yet comfortable warmth.

A soft hand ran up his toned chest, fingers splayed as they explored and Grimmjow tilted his head fractionally to see who was touching him. The lightly tanned hand froze, before being snatched away. Grimmjow looked up into widening brown eyes.

"I...I'm sorry!" Ichigo stared in frozen shock for a moment, then began to scramble away, toward the edge of the large, king sized bed. A million excuses ran through his head for why he had been touching the bluenette like that, but he knew they were lies. It was true, he had come up here to see if the man had woken up yet and to check on his injuries, but he hadn't been able to keep his hands away.

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist, easily halting his retreat. The Caster looked up, mind working for an excuse and his mouth opening and closing a few times as nothing came out. He froze when his gaze locked with swirling, expressive blue.

The man didn't move, just looked him in the eye, as if searching for something there, and Ichigo knew he had to be angry. He prepared himself for the verbal lashing he was sure to get. Hell, he would be lucky if the werecat turned man didn't maul him.

"I'm s...sorry..." Ichigo stuttered again, still unable to look away from those crystalline, blue pools. "I was checking your injuries...and..." His mind supplied as the man opened his mouth to surely question what he was doing.

"You ganna finish what you started?" The deep tone was heavy and sinful, barely louder than a whisper but it still carried confidence and an animalistic promise. It sent a chill up the Caster's spine.

"wait... What?" Did the man actually believe his lame excuse? But as he looked into quickly darkening, azure eyes, he knew the bluenette hadn't been talking about his injuries. Ichigo began to pull away again, eyes wide as he continued to stare into the brilliant blue that wouldn't release their hold over him.

The hand circling his wrist tugged him forward before letting go. It wasn't a painful or forceful action, but the man's strength, even as injured as he was, was immense and Ichigo fell forward. He caught himself, bracing his hands on either side of the werecat's head, keeping himself from falling onto the injured man.

Grimmjow looked up into wide, shock filled brown eyes. He watched confusion, then understanding dance in chocolaty depths. A smirk tugged at his handsome features as the man hovering above him seemed frozen, unsure weather he should run or give in to Grimmjow's silent demand.

The bluenette raised his hand, hooking his fingers under the Caster's chin. He pulled the man forward, careful not to hurt or scare him, but still leaving no room for the man to struggle against him. Now that the orange head was so close, he couldn't seem to help himself, not that he cared too. With the way the Caster had been touching him, the smaller man was lucky Grimmjow hadn't jumped him.

Ichigo gasped slightly as strong, yet gentle fingers grasped his chin and jaw, pulling his face down. Full lips slanted over his in a ghosting of warmth, before the contact was ended. It was quick, chaste, but it sent electricity through his body, leaving him almost out of breath. A tongue peeked out of the bluenette's mouth, running over a full bottom lip and Ichigo couldn't keep his eyes from following the motion.

The bluenette pressed his lips to Ichigo's again, this time initiating a deep, searing kiss. The orange haired Caster tasted exquisite and that first, simple contact had only made him want more. Grimmjow was a creature of instinct, a predator, and so he took what he wanted.

A hot tongue teased at his bottom lip, quickly retreating and pulling a barely audible whine from Ichigo's throat. He felt the man smirk slightly against him, then that wet appendage was delving into his mouth, mapping everything it could reach and coaxing his own tongue into a heated dance.

Ichigo's mind was overrun, drowning in what was happening. All he could do was react, his body going through the motions for him. He hardly registered as he grew harder. The sinful body below him radiated heat and lust and Ichigo wanted more.

The hand grasping his jaw finally released it's hold, working around to the back of his neck. The bluenette tried to pull him closer as their lip lock deepened. Ichigo's tongue ran along sharp, nipping teeth, forcing a shiver down his spine.

Grimmjow's other arm worked around his waist, pulling his lower body closer with an almost desperate need. Ichigo was caught of guard by the strength and suddenness of the motion. Loosing his balance, he dropped on top of the bluenette.

Grimmjow broke the kiss, a strained groan working up his throat as he grimaced, baring his teeth. Pain twisted his features for a moment, before he took a deep breath and pushed it away.

"I..I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." Ichigo chanted, frantic mind finally catching up to what was happening. He hadn't meant to hurt the man. He shouldn't be here, he should have checked on the man's wounds and left him sleep. Ichigo tried to pull away, off the bluenette. The corded arm hooked around his waist tightened, pulling him flush with the solid body below him and silencing his apologies.

All thoughts of fleeing flew out the window as a hot, moist tongue laved at his pulse point and up the side of his neck. The bluenette below him shifted, and Ichigo's attention was drawn to the man's obvious erection that pressed against his hip, only separated by his jeans and the thin sheets that covered the man from the waist down.

Warm fingers danced along the bottom hem of the Caster's shirt, pushing the fabric away as Grimmjow explored his toned abdomen. He hummed against the tanned neck he was teasing. Ichigo wasn't as solidly muscled as his twin, the bluenette noted, but just as attractive.

The bluenette quickly got annoyed with the fabric getting in his way and began pulling at the shirt. The material creaked, seams threatening to rip and the Caster rose up, knees on either side of Grimmjow's waist. He lifted his arms above his head, allowing the feline to pull the shirt off, rather than rip it off.

With the shirt out of the way, Grimmjow ran his hands up the slim body before him, appreciating the view. The crimson sheets pooled in his lap as he sat up, wrapping his arms around Ichigo's waist and laved his tongue over a pert nipple.

Ichigo's arms circled around the back of his neck, one of his hands delving into thick, silky blue strands as the smaller man's head fell back. A delicious moan escaped the Caster's bared throat, making Grimmjow's dick twitch with want.

Grimmjow hummed his approval, nipping at the hardened bud lightly. He let one of his big hands roam up along Ichigo's toned back, while his other found purchase on the Caster's ass.

The werecat pulled the man closer, wanting more, needing more. He was just getting ready to switch their positions when his keen hearing picked out the sound of light footsteps coming up the stairs. It was obvious the Caster had yet to hear them, he tugged at Grimmjow's hair, whining for more. The bluenette obliged, letting his hand dip below the waist band of the Caster's tight jeans to kneed at the perfect, rounded cheeks below.

Using his free hand, he unbuttoned the front of Ichigo's jeans, giving himself more room, then wrapped his arm back around the smaller male's body. His other hand played with the seem of Ichigo's cheeks, teasing and caressing. He shifted slightly, bring his hand inside the boxers the Caster wore.

The orange head pushed back against his hand slightly, a low, wanton moan escaping his soft lips. Grimmjow couldn't refuse the invitation and let his index finger push against the smaller man's puckered entrance. The hand in his hair tightened.

"hnn...Grimm..." The Caster's voice was laced with lust and want, his eyes dark and clouded.

A smirk played at Grimmjow's lips as the footsteps paused outside of his room and the unique scent of Ichi's twin wafted toward him. He pushed his probing finger past the tight ring of muscle, making the man straddling his lap cry out at the sudden intrusion just as the door creaked open.

••••••

Shirosaki opened up the door to one of their many spare rooms. He crossed the room and dropped the clean sheets and blankets onto the bare mattress of the bed.

"Ya know where the bathroom is. Ichi and I are in the room at the very end of the hall, door on the right, if ya need somethin'." He said to the two that followed him into the room. "Werecat's on the third floor, don't really know why ya'd need ta know, but whatever." he shrugged and left the room, bidding Renji and Rukia a good night.

He and Ichigo had demanded they stay. They weren't willing to let the two try making the trip back home so shortly after the attack. It would have been dangerous enough in the dark that had quickly descended, but neither knew if the wolves would continue to lurk outside. The only person that could have possibly told them if they were near had passed out, and now slept in a room on third floor. It was easy to understand, the man had sort of gotten the hell kicked out of him twice in the past twenty four hours, not to mention the havoc King's magic seemed to have wreaked on the man's body.

They could all tackle how to get Renji and the midget safely into town tomorrow, in the light of day and after a night's rest.

The albino made his way back down the stairs, descending to the first floor. Walking down the hall to the front door, he double checked the locks and chains, not that any of them would keep a werewolf out, but that was the barrier's job. So far, so good on that front. And after Ichigo's display a few hours ago, Shiro's confidence was boosted quite high.

He poked his head around the corner of the door way, checking for King in the sitting room they had been gathered in before.

The orange haired Caster had left a while ago to check on the injured man's wounds and to see if he had woken up yet. That had been at least twenty minutes ago, yet King wasn't back down stairs yet.

Shrugging, Shiro headed back up the stairs to his and Ichigo's shared room. Maybe King had already made it to bed. It was a reasonable idea.

"How's he..." He started to ask about the condition of the bluenette, opening the door to their bedroom. "King?" Turning the light on revealed an empty bed. "huh."

The pale man left the room, going back to the stairs. He continued up the spiral case, worry starting to gnaw at his gut. He hoped all was ok, both with King and the unconscious man they had dragged up the stairs. He was finding that the cat was growing on him, as much as he hated to admit it.

Coming to the door that led to the bluenette's room, he hesitated for a moment, ears straining as he thought he heard a muffled sound. A voice sounded, much louder this time and he swung the door open. It had definitely been King's voice, he would recognize that sound no matter how muffled it was.

The sight that greeted him had Shiro rooted to the ground.

Ichigo was on his knees, straddling the blue haired man on the bed. His hand fisted in blue locks, the other tightly gripped the back of the bluenette's arm. The Caster's back arched, head thrown back, and he squeezed his eyes shut as another moan crawled from his parted and swollen lips.

The bluenette's naked upper half was molded to King's front, thickly corded arms wrapped tight around his waist. One hand was tucked inside the back of King's jeans, while the other was splayed across the middle of his back. The bluenette's tongue left a saliva coated trail up the middle of Ichi's chest and Shiro realized that the man was smirking, his blue eyes directed at him.

A shiver racked the albino's spine, his gold on black eyes wide as he stared at the arousing sight. His jeans began to grow tight as a simmering anger began to well up in him. He growled, storming toward the two men on the bed.

Grimmjow turned his head to watch him straight on, but made no move to halt what he was doing. Ichigo's brown eyes slit open, dark with need. He peeked at the albino for a moment, before some of the haze seemed to clear and his eyes widened. He scrambled backward, nearly falling to the floor in his haste as his brother stalked up to the bedside. He pressed back against the wall, hands held up in front of him, trying to calm his enraged twin.

Shiro gave him a cursory glance, dismissing him in favor of the blue haired man. Giving in to the possessive anger swimming in his gut, he lashed out. His fist was blocked by a strong forearm, the smirk faltering slightly on the bluenette's face. The albino practically threw himself at the man, knocking him backward.

A pained grunt made it's way from Grimmjow's throat as the pale human knocked him back to the bed. A solid punch landed on his gut, the shot knocking the air from his lungs. He figured the albino might be upset, but he hadn't counted on outright rage. If he was honest, he had kind of hoped the pale man would join.

Ichigo stood stunned as his twin hit the bluenette, but the moment didn't last long.

"Shiro!" Ichigo scrambled around the bed, grabbing his brother's arm and halting another punch. "Shirosaki, stop!" He yelled again, dragging the pale man away.

Shiro spun on him, grabbing hold of Ichigo's upper arms. "Yer mine!" He half growled, half yelled. "Mine, King!" He shook Ichigo lightly, backing him toward the wall. Before he knew it, he seized a stunned King's lips with his own. The kiss was deep and possessive.

The albino broke the kiss just as suddenly as he had initiated it, a wild look flashing in his gold eyes. He spun back to the bluenette, who was slowly standing from the bed. Shiro bared his teeth, launching himself back at the bigger man.

Grimmjow took a ginger step forward, just as the pale man hurtled at him again. He was knocked from his feet, unable to support his own and Shiro's weight. The albino landed on top of him, straddling his bare abdomen. A slight panic welled up in the werecat, instincts warning him that he was dealing with an unpredictable man.

He reached up, grabbing hold of Shiro's wrists and keeping the smaller man from hitting him again. Gold eyes flashed with anger and something else as the albino looked down at him. They sat for several moments, unmoving, the silence only broken by panting breaths. Recognition flashed simultaneously through blue and gold and the tension finally broke.

Shiro gave in to the body below his own, he couldn't deny how the events he had walked in on effected him. Seeing the attractive bluenette's naked body below him certainly wasn't helping.

The hands holding his wrists released him, settling on his slim hips. Shiro leaned forward, sinking his teeth into the flesh of Grimmjow's shoulder, eliciting an aroused, moaning hiss from the man. He let his mind go blank, not willing to think about what was going on.

Ichigo stared in shock as what had been the beginning of a violent fight turned into a still semi violent, yet lust filled display.

His twin's hands locked into bright blue strands as the larger man ripped the shirt from Shiro's body, dropping the pieces on the floor beside them.

Shiro tugged on Grimmjow's hair, pulling his head back to bare his throat. The albino wasted no time in biting and sucking at the exposed skin. Grimmjow growled, the sound deep and husky as he let his nails dig into the pale flesh of Shiro's bare back as the albino ground down against the bluenette's hard member.

Shiro untangled one of his hands from Grimmjow's mane of blue to reach around behind himself. He grasped the bluenette's thick member, giving a single, teasing pump. The werecat's lips curled into an expression somewhere near a snarl as he bucked his hips upward, into the hand gripping him.

The sight had Ichigo painfully hard, his own cock straining against the constricting fabric of his jeans. He let out a breathy whine, unable to hold the sound back as he watched with wide eyes as the bluenette and his brother continued to ravish each other.

Blue and gold turned in his direction at the sound of his low whine and Ichigo found himself trying to back away, only to find that his back was pressed against the wall. Leering grins stretched across both men's faces at nearly the same time, making Ichigo feel like the cornered prey of a large predator. He swallowed and watched the bluenette push his twin off him.

Shiro landed on his butt in between the man's legs, his attention drawn back to the bluenette. The man's thick member bobbed as he began sitting up, pushing himself up on his elbows, his blue eyes never leaving King. Shiro had other ideas. Bending forward before Grimmjow could get out of reach, he licked the head of the man's cock.

A surprised gasp left Grimmjow and he looked down to watch as the pale man engulfed the head of his erection into his furnace like mouth. Shiro hollowed his cheeks and sucked down his length, drawing an aroused groan from the larger man.

Grimmjow's brilliant, blue eyes, half mast and clouded with lust, landed on Ichigo again.

"Come here, Ichi" The deep, husky voice promised every sin imaginable and Ichigo couldn't deny the command. "On the bed."

The orange head did as he was told, stripping his jeans off in the process. He watched Grimmjow grab a fistful of snowy locks, tugging Shiro's head away from his cock.

Shiro snarled at him, but quickly climbed to his feet as he saw that King had moved to the bed. The albino kicked off the rest of his clothing and crawled onto the mattress. He pushed Ichigo to a laying position and stripped the man's boxers off, dropping them to the floor as Grimmjow's heavier weight dipped the mattress behind him.

Grimmjow smirked as an idea came to mind. He pushed Shiro to the mattress, the albino hardly putting up any resistance. Before he had the chance to enact his idea, however, Ichigo had positioned himself between his twin's legs.

The Caster ran his tongue over pale, quivering muscles, slowly working his way toward Shiro's member. The albino's head fell back, resting on the pillows as a needy moan left his throat.

Wet heat engulfed his cock, dragging a gasp from him. Shiro opened his eyes to watch the orange head that bobbed up and down in his lap as King quickly found a mind numbing pace. A pale hand ran through the orange spikes almost lovingly while Shiro watched and enjoyed. Ichigo hummed at the touch.

"Hnn...King..." Shiro panted, letting his head fall back again as Ichigo continued sucking his cock.

Grimmjow lowered himself down to his knees on the mattress, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side, while he watched. His own dick twitched and he groaned at the needy moan issued from Shiro.

He leaned forward, abdomen to Ichigo's back, and licked up the side of Shiro's exposed throat.

The albino slit his eyes open again, looking up into equally heated blue. Grimmjow ran his index and middle finger over the albino's lip and Shiro instantly opened up. He wrapped his tongue around the digit's presented to him, sucking on them suggestively and liberally coating them in saliva.

Grimmjow pulled his hand away, scooting backward on the bed a little.

Ichigo whimpered as the warm body that had been pressed to his back withdrew. A split second later, a finger was teasing at his entrance. He moaned around the cock in his mouth and raised his ass a little, offering himself to the bluenette behind him.

Grimmjow hummed at the offering, instantly plunging his index finger into that tight hole. The orange head stiffened, pausing in his actions on Shiro's cock. The pale twin gently pushed his head down and Ichigo continued sucking. Grimmjow pumped his finger a couple times, quickly growing impatient and adding a second.

The orange haired Caster cried out, the sound muffled by his mouthful. Soon enough, he was pushing backward in time with his sucking, drawing moans from his twin and himself as the fingers impaling him thrust deep.

Grimmjow scissored his fingers a couple times before pulling the digits out. The sights and sounds of the men below him wore on his patience and his hard member had grown painful. He lined himself up, sliding forward in a fluid motion, until he was fully seated in Ichigo's tight heat.

Ichigo released Shiro's cock, crying out as Grimmjow's large member impaled him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers tightening in their grip on his twin's slim hips. After a few moments, he finally let out a panting breath and began rocking backward. Grimmjow took the hint and pulled back, snapping his hips forward again and drawing another cry from the smaller man.

"Grimm–!" Ichigo did his best to meet the man's vicious thrusts. He slit his eyes open to lock with the darkened gold of his twin's. Grimmjow continued to pound into him and he couldn't have stemmed the flow of his moans even had he wanted to.

"Damn, King..." Shiro panted out, looking at Ichigo's flushed face hovering over his waist line. He grabbed hold of Ichigo's arms, tugging and pulling the man further up the bed.

Grimmjow paused in his brutal pace, letting Ichigo scoot up his pale copy as he realized what Shiro was going for. He quickly entered the orange head again as he came to a stop, body lining up with Shiro's now.

Shirosaki wrapped a pale arm around the back of King's neck, pulling his copy down for a sloppy, heated kiss as Grimmjow found his brutal pace again. The man grunted and moaned above them, the sounds going straight to his dick. Shiro used his free hand to guide himself to Ichigo's entrance, along side Grimmjow's thick member. He waited for the big man to pull almost completely out, then matched his thrust. They both seated themselves fully into Ichigo, panting and moaning in pleasure.

Ichigo broke away from Shiro's drugging kiss, a strangled, moaning cry tearing from his throat. The added size burned in the best of ways, consuming him until he thought he would burn alive.

"haaah...Grimmnnn..." The Caster moaned out, lost in his haze of pleasure. He could feel heat pool in his gut. "Sshiro..."

Both men continued to pound into him, grunting and moaning as they did. A strangled cry alerted the two to Ichigo's release, his sticky seed blending with Shiro's milky complexion.

The tight, silky walls of the Caster constricted with his release and pulled Shrio's orgasm from him at nearly the same time. Grimmjow thrust one more time, a growl leaving his throat as he too rode out his release.

The two men pulled out, Shiro wrapping his arms around a trembling King and pulling him to lay on his chest. Ichigo smiled, resting his head on his twin's shoulder.

Grimmjow collapsed to their side, taking a deep breath and letting his eyes close. A soft, rumbling purr left his throat as his very much sated and still recovering body demanded rest.

The Caster snorted, a quiet, amused sound. He reached out and gently brushed blue strands away from the already sleeping feline's face, small smile playing at his lips. Below him, Shiro's grip tightened fractionally as he shifted so he could also look toward the bluenette.

"Tch. I guess he's kinda cute when he sleeps." The albino huffed quietly. "Don't really like pets in the house, but I guess ya can keep him." he added, still looking at the bluenette. "If he want's ta stay, at least." He shrugged lightly.

Ichigo chuckled and snuggled his face against his twin's neck. "We can think about it later." He said quietly, a yawn escaping as he spoke. For now, sleep beckoned and the warmth of his brother and the larger man beside him made struggling to stay awake futile.

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><p><strong>AN:Lots of fun for you guys to read, yeah? I promised blood, violence and naked men last chapter... I think I delivered well enough XD<br>This chapter tried to be even longer, but I decided to cut it off and save some for later *wink***

**Well, what did you guys think?  
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	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This one is a little shorter than normal, but theres a lot of development and info in it if you know where to look! And if any of you haven't seen this yet, go take a peek at Storm's wonderful work!**

**http : / / blackstorm . deviantart . com / art / GrimmIchiShiro - Of - Monsters - and - Men - 266999256  
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**Enjoy~  
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><p>The cheerful melodies of birds could be heard, muffled by the thick glass of the window but no less beautiful as they welcomed the day. Bright, early morning sun streamed through the parted curtains from a cloudless sky, falling across a tangle of tanned limbs, lean, pale muscle and disheveled, crimson sheets.<p>

Ichigo slowly pulled himself up onto one elbow, using his other hand to rub the sleep from his eyes before finally prying them open. He yawned and peered around, slightly confused about waking up in one of the spare rooms at first. As he stretched, an ache presented it's self and he smirked a little, face tinting a light shade of red as the previous night's activities flashed in his mind.

Beside the orange haired Caster, his pale copy shifted in his sleep, hand dipping below the sheets to a tell tale bulge. Ichigo's smirk grew and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the side of his twin's neck where he placed a few light kisses.

"Having sweet dreams, Shiro?" He whispered against the exposed skin, twirling his fingers in a lock of silky, white hair that was fanned across the pillows. The morning sun glinted from the feathery mane, creating the illusion of an almost silver halo, a fitting image for Ichigo's once deceased twin.

Shiro mumbled something unintelligible, adjusting in his sleep again. Crimson sheets pulled away with the movement, revealing more of his toned, milky abdomen and a lean, muscled leg.

Ichigo chuckled, giving the pale flesh before him a slow, teasing lick before pulling away. Shiro gave a soft moan, hand shifting where it rested across his lap under the thin blankets.

Rolling over, the Caster tossed his legs over the edge of the large bed and sat up. He stretched his arms over his head, yawning again. A slight frown tugged at his features and he looked back over his shoulder, searching the large bed for vivid blue.

"Hey, Shiro, you know where Grimmjow went?" He asked, voice loud enough that his brother would hear him through whatever he was dreaming about.

The pale man groaned tiredly, peeking one golden eye open briefly before shutting it again. "No." He said, voice thick with sleep. "Yer interruptin'. Now go away er take care a this." He threw the sheets off of himself, revealing the impressive erection he was sporting.

Ichigo snorted and stood up, making his way slowly around the bed, a slight limp in his step. He grabbed his discarded boxers and jeans from the night before and quickly slipped into them.

Crossing the room, he smirked at Shiro's resounding "Tch" as he shut the heavy wooden door behind him.

••••••

Renji ran a hand through his long red hair and hiked up his loose, dark colored boxers as he exited the room he and Rukia had been given.

The petite woman was still sound asleep, for which the red head was thankful. If he had to be honest with himself, he was a little surprised he had woken up to find that she was still there. He had half expected her to try to leave while everyone was asleep.

He made his way to the bathroom, relieving himself before heading down the stairs and toward the kitchen. The stone flooring was cold against his bare feet and he entertained the thought of buying the twins some carpet next year instead of just making them breakfast.

The red head yawned and scratched at his tattooed midsection, crossing the kitchen and opening up the refrigerator. Bending slightly to peer inside, he rummaged about for something to make. He felt kind of bad for raiding Ichi's and Shiro's fridge, but figured if he made enough for them too they wouldn't complain. They always seemed to enjoy his cooking.

A shiver ran down his spine and he paused, slowly straightening when he felt a piercing gaze land on his form. He turned to look, a little wide eyed, over his shoulder at the owner of intense, nearly glowing blue eyes. He had walked right past him and hadn't even realized the man was there.

"umm...Good morning..." Renji greeted, the werepanther making him a bit nervous as the man continued to stare at him. It wasn't a threatening glare, or a lecherous look in anyway. There was just something about the guy that made the red head uneasy on a more primal level. The feline had never showed any aggression toward him since they met and Renji wasn't really afraid of him, just unsure what to think. He assumed it was caused by the man not being human, but a creature that was generally considered deadly and taboo.

The man continued to watch him for a few moments more, like a cat, a really big cat, that was hunched over a dead mouse, waiting to see if he would try to take it away. Then the bluenette nodded to him fractionally and grunted in greeting as he stuffed another bite into his mouth, glacial gaze still pinned to his form.

Renji got the feeling he would get more than a scratch if he tried to take the man's meal away.

"You, uhh... want me to cook that for you?" Renji asked, grimacing a little at the red that dripped from the man's fingers and pooled on the plate he was using.

"Nope." The werecat brought another strip of the meat to his mouth, his sharp teeth easily tearing another piece away.

Renji continued to gape at the man, unsure how to react as he chowed down on raw, bloody meat.

"What are you eating?"

The red head jumped, spinning around to face a stunned Ichigo. He turned back to the bluenette in time to watch him sniff at the meat held between his fingers.

"Smells like beef" Grimmjow shrugged and stuck the bite in his mouth, throughly enjoying the treat, unfazed by the state of shock the two men before him were in.

"But it's...And you... It's raw!" Ichigo said, blanching slightly when Grimmjow curled his tongue around his fingers, savoring the bloody juices. He shivered slightly, ignoring the blood in favor of watching the mockingly arousing sight the man unwittingly made.

"Yeah, it's good that way." Grimmjow said, looking up at the Caster. He gave another unconcerned shrug. "Would have preferred the horse, it's fresh, but it stinks like mutt slobber." He curled his lip, showing over large, sharp canines in disgust.

"You went outside to check that horse?" Ichigo asked, still watching the man in slight disbelief. It really shouldn't have surprised him that Grimmjow preferred fresh, uncooked meat. He was a creature of the forest after all, a carnivorous predator. It served as a reminder that the man sitting at his counter was more than he looked.

Grimmjow nodded, blue eyes consuming the Caster's shirtless frame as he stuck the last bite in his mouth.

"Could you tell if the werewolves were still around?" Ichigo asked, looking to Renji. It would probably be best to get them home as soon as possible. Ichigo didn't want to put them in danger by keeping them out here in the forest.

"Starrk tucked his mangy tail and ran as soon as he stopped pissing himself." The werecat practically spat. Seething furry swirled just below the surface of his blue orbs.

Ichigo wondered about the change in the man's attitude, but didn't comment as Grimmjow continued.

"There are no other predator's in the immediate area. My presence alone should be enough to keep the lower ranking and stray werewolves away." Grimmjow said, voice and attitude returning to normal again. He shrugged, then turned to Renji, standing from his perch on the bar stool. "The Pack usually sleeps in the day, now would be a preferable time to escort you home."

"Grimmjow, you don't have to..." Ichigo was cut off by the cat.

"I will accompany you. I didn't..." He raised a hand gingerly to his still deeply bruised throat with a slight wince. He hadn't gotten his ass kicked to save the red head to let him get killed on his way home the next day. "I'll go."

"Alright, uh...thanks" Renji said, glad that the man had pulled on a pair of shorts before he had showed up down stairs this time. "I'll go wake up Rukia"

"Guess I'll go wake Shiro, then" Ichigo said, turning to leave the room as well.

A big hand fell on his shoulder. Grimmjow spun him around; a single, quick twirl that left the orange haired man stumbling into the cat's broad chest.

The feline smirked down at him, hands lowering to come to a rest on the smaller man's hips. He looked down into expressive, warm eyes. The look the Caster was giving him was almost the same one he had given him in their first meeting in the forest; a mix of confusion and awe. The only thing missing was the fear he had seen swirling in their depths that night, but Grimmjow found that he didn't miss that particular look.

The werepanther bent down, seizing the Caster in a deep kiss. The moment was all too short for Ichigo, but it left him breathless all the same and he stared up at the man with wide eyes when he pulled away, completely taken aback and surprised.

"Allow me" Grimmjow rumbled in a low tone, smirking at the resulting shiver from the Caster. He released the human and stepped around him, bare feet padding silently out into the hall.

Ichigo turned to watch him go. He stood rooted to his spot for a moment before shaking himself from his stupor and heading toward the stables to ready the horses.

••••••

Finding the pale twin was an easy task. Grimmjow entered the room the three had shared, quietly closing the door behind him. He stalked in silence to the edge of the bed, hovering by the sleeping man for a moment, contemplating how he should wake him.

Shiro was still sprawled across the mattress, pale complexion standing out in stark contrast to the rich crimson of the sheets around him. He had shifted, laying on his stomach now, his face turned toward Grimmjow and the sheets completely pulled away from his body, giving the bluenette a wonderful view of his lean, muscular build and backside.

Smirking, the feline crawled onto the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping occupant. He positioned himself to hover over Shiro's bared body, knees on either side of pale hips and his hands on either side of Shiro's shoulders. Then he leaned forward, nuzzling at the nape of the pale man's neck.

Shiro groaned in his sleep, burying his face further into the pillow he was clutching below him.

Grimmjow trailed his tongue across the smooth skin, making his way to Shiro's ear, where he paused to nip at the sensitive area before speaking.

"Wake up, Shiro..." The bluenette called softly into the man's ear, flicking his tongue over the shell of ashen skin.

"go 'way, Ichi." The near-albino mumbled in his sleep. He shifted his face away from the bluenette hovering over him, unconsciously rubbing his ass across Grimmjow's groin as he moved.

The werepanther's smirk grew into a leering grin as pressed his lower half against Shiro's, supporting his weight with his corded arms.

"Not Ichi" He said, voice dropping to a seductive baritone. Grimmjow let a deep purr rumble through his chest as he continued to nuzzle at the back of Shiro's neck.

The pale twin shivered at the sound slowly rousing him from his sleep. Warm lips and a hot, wet tongue teased at his neck, making him shift his position as his lower half began to stir awake again. A solid body ground back against him, a warm hand trailing down his bare back to halt on the curve of his ass.

"Tryin' a sleep" He mumbled, still not quite awake enough to register all of what was going on.

A finger trailed along the seem of his cheeks and he furrowed his snowy brows, slowly prying his eyes open and lifting his head. The finger pressed forward, teasing at his entrance.

"What the ffmnnnn..."

Grimmjow smirked as the man's question became a low moan when he delved his finger into Shiro. He pumped his hand a few times, delighting in Shiro's responsiveness. It was obvious he was usually the dominate one in his and Ichigo's relationship and that made him all the tighter and more sensitive.

"Grimm...jow?" He panted, craning his neck to peek behind him at the larger man.

Grimmjow hummed in answer and added a second finger, a wicked grin on his lips.

••••••

As the sun rose, rays of bright light cutting through the surrounding trees and illuminating the entrance to the den, Starrk and Nnoitra finally pulled themselves home.

Wolves scattered. Some of them rushed to get out of the way, others rushed to the side of their Alpha and second. All were curious about the odd smell wafting from singed fur and what had kept them away so long. It was a rarity that Starrk, or any other member of the Pack, was gone for so long and returning so near to day break was unheard of.

Nnoitra curled his lips in a snarl that sent the majority of the wolves running, tails tucked between their legs in fear. The night had been long and he was tired and sore. He wanted food and sleep, but at this point, would settle for just the second.

Speeding through the forest in their usual ground devouring pace had been impossible as the magic the Caster had used continued to work through their systems. They had deemed that there would be no lasting effects, all they had to do was wait for the magic to run it's course. It seemed the human hadn't wanted to really harm them, only keep them away. Either that, or he was still learning and didn't know what he was doing.

Neither wolf could see that being a possibility with how powerful he had been.

Lilynette stormed up to Starrk's side, sticking her tongue out at Nnoitra, who had his blind side toward her and the leader.

Starrk clapped his hand over the back of her head lightly, but gave her a small smirk when she glared up at him.

"This was that damn cat's fault, wasn't it?" She asked in a petulant tone, wrinkling her nose as she got a strong whiff of the spicy, tell tale scent of magic.

Beside them, Nnoitra bared gleaming fangs and snorted.

"No. Not really." Starrk said in a tired drawl, heading in the direction of his quarters. "Before you think about it, do not go after him. And don't send any of my wolves after him either." He added, not needing the she-wolf to say a word to know what she was thinking. She had been out for the feline's blood for months now. He still couldn't fiure out why.

"You can't let him get away with this! It's unacceptable!" She shouted in disbelief.

"Tch. Didn't ya hear him? Said it wasn't the cat." Nnoitra growled at her, the menace in his voice giving her pause. It was an aggressiveness he usually didn't direct at her. "Was a damn human."

"What? You're kidding me. There hasn't been a strong human Caster in decades." She crossed her thin arms over her chest, giving the large, black wolf an incredulous look. There shouldn't be a human strong enough to do the damage Starrk and Nnoitra had obviously taken. Humans were weak; beneath the were-races. Not that the cat could Cast, not that she knew of anyway. But how should she know, no one wanted her around him long enough for her to find out.

"Hasn't been a Necromancer in centuries." Starrk mumbled to himself, still pondering over the smell and flavor of the Caster's magic. Necromancy was the only thing he could come up that could produce such powerful results and have an icy bite mixed with the spicy magic.

"A... Necromancer? Really?" Lilynette's eyes lit up with mischief and wonder. "Oooh, I've never seen one of those before!" She clapped her hands together, unable to conceal her excitement.

"No." Starrk said sternly. Lilynettte certainly wasn't weak, but she was still young, still learning her strength. She still had the mentality that she was invincible. And she was wrong. The Alpha feared she would find that out sooner or later, after it was already too late.

"He'd tear ya apart, kid." Nnoitra put in, wincing as a sharp pain shot through the left side of his face. He raised his clawed hand and gingerly rubbed at the scar tissue. "If La Pantera didn't take care a ya first."

Starrk huffed a tired, worn out sigh and turned to face Nnoitra, letting the scared wolf get a look at him with his good eye. He gently pushed Lily away, silently telling her to scram and leave them be. "You realize this could get messy, Nnoi?"

The wolf tilted his big head, black ears perking slightly as he gave the Alpha a curious look. "What'da ya mean?"

"What happens when a Fallen deidad gains followers?" Starrk turned and left his second in the hall, climbing into his sleeping quarters.

Nnoitra stared after the smaller Alpha in confusion. He watched Starrk disappear into the dark, his one remaining eye slowly widening as realization dawned on him.

••••••

"Ganna... have to hurry, Shiro..." Grimmjow ground out, panting as he thrust up into the man straddling his lap.

Shiro growled out a curse, tossing his head back and dragging his black nails down the bluenette's built chest as a sensitive bundle of nerves was ruthlessly prodded. He tightened his legs around the bigger man's waist and did his best to meet the bluenette's thrusts.

Grimmjow moaned, low in his throat, when the white haired man slammed back down onto his cock, repeatedly impaling himself. The nails digging into his flesh pulled and tore at his healing wounds, but the sensation was driving him crazy and he didn't care if Shiro tore them open.

He growled, sinking his sharp teeth into the juncture of Shiro's neck and shoulder as he quickened the pace even further. He ran his own nails down the flesh of Shiro's back, pressing just hard enough to draw slightly raised, red lines, but not actually breaking the skin.

The albino hissed between his teeth, back arching at the sharp nails digging into his flesh. He couldn't deny that Grimmjow's brutal, violent sex got him going and he grunted and moaned his pleasure with each thrust as his peak hurtled toward him.

The werepanther retracted one of his hands from Shiro's back and began pumping the man's neglected shaft. Shiro moaned and cursed at the added pleasure.

"Grimm...sssshit..." Shiro hung his head, grip tightening around the bluenette. With a grunt, he came, covering Grimmjow's hand and clutching at the man's shoulders like his life depended on it.

Grimmjow growled, pulling the pale man close as he thrust up into constricting, silky heat a few more times before he, too, reached his peak.

He could already feel the cuts and furrows Shiro had dug in his chest healing. The flesh knitted back together too fast to form scars. In a matter of minutes, there would be no evidence that the marks had existed at all. While a bit slower, he could also feel that some of the gashes from the wolf that he had been having trouble healing were beginning to knit closed at a quicker pace as well.

Something about that stuck him as odd, but as he rode out the waves of his release and slowly came back down from his pleasure induced high, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on it.

Shrio relaxed in his grasp after a few moments. He took a few deep breaths before untangling his long legs from around the feline's waist and gingerly climbing from the bluenette's lap.

"Why the hell weren't ya that aggressive last night?" He asked, shooting the man a heated look as he combed his fingers through his disheveled hair. He didn't bottom often, King not having the same dominate side he had, but he certainly enjoyed he and the werecat's unexpected romp.

The werepanther snorted lightly. "Ichigo is softer than you, I don't want to hurt him. Or you, but you can handle it." He said with a shrug, voice a little softer than it probably should have been. He quickly stood, cleaning himself off before slipping back into his borrowed shorts, blue eyes refusing to meet inverted golden ones.

Shiro watched the man as he readied himself, avoiding his gaze the entire time. It had sounded like the feline really cared for he and Ichigo. The idea almost confused him and he pushed it away, quickly dressing so he and the bluenette could join the others outside at the stables.

••••••

Ichigo patted the side of his horse's neck and stepped away from the beast. He turned just in time to see his brother walk through the large double doors. Grabbing the bridle, Ichigo led his horse out of the stall, his riding boots clunking on the wooden floor.

"Morning again, Shiro" He said, a smile that reached his warm eyes formed on his lightly tanned features. Shiro snorted at him and the Caster continued. "Where's Grimmjow?"

"Tch. Outside. Wont come in here" The pale twin shrugged not entirely understanding the feline's reluctance to enter the stables.

He walked up to the front of his favorite horse's stall, opening the gate just far enough to slip in. His was one of their more wild ones, a stallion that would bolt if given the chance. It was usually fine once the tack was on, but getting to that point could be an issue.

The Caster watched his twin disappear into the closed off stall, then turned and walked his horse outside, joining Renji and Rukia in the front yard.

He had leant them one of their other horses, since Renji's had been killed by the wolf and they both sat, already mounted in the saddles of their respective horses.

Grimmjow was standing a safe distance away, warily eyeing the animals. He backed away as Ichigo tried walking to his side, his mount in tow.

The orange haired man frowned, looking at the cat then up at his horse. Backing the animal up, he handed the reins to Renji, who had been watching the odd reaction, and headed back toward the bluenette.

"Don't like horses?" He asked, trying desperately to hide his amused smile.

The bluenette shrugged. "we don't get along."

"Ours, other than Shiro's, are pretty friendly. I'm sure you could ride one." Ichigo said, grabbing the feline's hand and trying to lead him toward Renji and the horses. "It's not hard"

Grimmjow allowed himself to pulled a few feet closer, than halted again, his larger body mass jolting the human to a halt next to him. The Caster turned to look at him, curious why he stopped.

Shiro pulled up beside his brother, already astride his horse. The beast tossed it's head, nostrils flared and eyes wide as it stared at Grimmjow like it thought he might attack it.

The bluenette took a step away from the agitated animal, giving it some space. Horses were big animals, and they could deliver quite the punch to anything they perceived as a threat. The werepanther was alway perceived as a threat.

"What's a matter, kitty? Can't ride a horse?" Shiro asked, wide grin splitting his face as he watched the man. He really didn't look afraid, just cautious, but the albino couldn't help but tease him.

"You can ride with one of us" Ichigo said, turning back to the man. "You'll have to get on. It'll be much faster."

"No." Grimmjow stated in a flat voice, baring his teeth at the albino for the mocking comment he had made. "I can promise you none of these horses would tolerate me. And I will have no problem keeping up." He said, turning away from the group of human's and their animals and starting down the path he knew lead to the village.

Ichigo mounted his horse, taking the reins back from Renji, and the four of them set off after the man, easily catching up as he continued to walk. All four of the horses shied away from him as they neared, tossing their manes and flicking their ears. Shiro's horse even reared up, pawing the air slightly as it attempted to scare the blue haired man and side step away from him at the same time.

Regaining control of animal, Shiro raised a brow while he studied Grimmjow.

The bluenette stood perfectly still, unamused expression on his face and arms crossed over his chest. The bluenette abruptly turned, disappearing into the tree line. A moment later a pair of shorts flew out at Shiro.

The air crackled slightly with energy, again causing the horses to shy away and act nervous, braying and snorting. Then all fell quiet. The horses stilled, though the quivered slightly under their riders, as if ready to bolt. The birds stopped singing and the forest seemed to hold it's breath.

"Shall we?" The feline's deep voice carried to them on the morning air.

The humans kicked their horses into a trot, catching glimpses of sleek, blue black fur and muscle between the gaps in foliage.

••••••

Starrk yawned, stretching his arms behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He was tired and worn out. The magic and long hike back to the den had taxed his energy and even though he had been back for hours now, sleep eluded him.

His thoughts and mind wandered to distant, long gone times for a while. The memories of a past when he and La Pantera had been worshipped as gods played in front of his mind's eye. He knew that Grimmjow had been happy to Fall and disappear after the War, a great battle lost to human memory. The battle had been bloody, even in terms of most wars. But then, they always were when deidades were involved.

The feline's followers had been decimated, his temple ripped asunder and his godhood nearly stripped from him. That was when a human had managed to snag La Pantera, binding the feline to his will when the cat had been at his weakest. It had been low and cowardly, but it had been effective.

Starrk shuttered at the thoughts. He had found the injured Pantera after the cat had finally killed the human. Grimmjow still bore the scars of his enslavement.

Since then, the werecat had done his best to stay hidden from human eye. How he had managed to hold onto most of his power was a mystery to Starrk and the other Original wolves.

The werewolves weren't worshiped any longer either, but the human race still knew of their existence, or at least their rumored existence. Their fear gave power to the Originals and Deidades of the race, Starrk ranking at the top.

The feline's power was diminished from what it once was, true. But he still held an immense strength that was unheard of in a Fallen deidad with no followers. He was still a rival to an Original's own strength, and that was without the backing of faith to boost his power.

If the cat hadn't already been in such a torn up and fatigued state, Nnoitra wouldn't have walked away from that last scrap so unharmed. The black wolf had been lucky.

What really confused Starrk, though, was why Grimmjow would allow himself to be so enthralled by these new humans. Especially humans who held such great power. The panther had made it clear he didn't want his godhood any longer, he was happy to stay in the shadows and live in solitude. And after he had been bound, Starrk had figured the werepanther would kill off any Caster he met, yet the orange haired one still lived. And the panther seemed almost protective over him and the rest of the humans around the Caster.

The werewolf sat up, shoving his thoughts aside for later. Perhaps he would just ask Grimmjow what he was doing. For now, though, the smell of a fresh kill was drawing his attention.

••••••

Sleek muscle easily propelled the panther over the uneven forest floor. He ran parallel to the path the humans and their horses were using, relishing the feeling of freedom his four legged cat form brought him. Ears swiveling and keen nose testing the air, Grimmjow could tell he had been correct in his prediction. Not another predator dared show it's self, undoubtedly being able to sense that his strength was returning.

He had woken up this morning feeling particularly energized. The wounds and his body had lacked the ache they had held for the past few days and his senses had felt sharp and honed. His appetite had be peaked, and not just for food; something that had not happened in quite some time.

Grimmjow knew something was off, something was different, but couldn't quite put his finger on it or bring himself to care enough to really try. He hadn't felt quite this great in a long time. The werepanther believed it to have something to do with the humans, but that was as far as his thought process went.

For now, he would relish the feeling and enjoy his renewed strength and swiftly healing body. He could deal with the rest later.

"Hey, Grimm, you still there?" The Caster's voice asked from the werepanther's right, somewhere down the path.

"Of course" He replied, slowing his pace so he wasn't so far ahead of the humans. He shifted his steps to bring himself closer to the path and loped along the tree line, letting himself enter the human's view.

He was unsure of the reason, but the Caster's question had made him want to be near to the man and his copy. A slight, irritating tremble of fear wormed it's way into his gut as he remembered being bound to a different Caster. He quickly shook the feeling off.

While the orange haired Caster held potential for that level of power, the man seemed careful about how he spoke Grimmjow's name. It was like he was treading carefully and trying not to invoke the power his name could hold over him. The werepanther hadn't felt that possessing tug since the first morning he had woken up in the human home, for which he was thankful. He liked these men, he didn't want to have to kill the Caster.

"We're nearin' the village." The pale twin said, glancing at the feline form as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head to hide his ashen features.

The panther nodded his head, training his sharp blue eyes back in front of them. "Should I stay in the forest, or would you prefer I accompany you?" He asked, still scanning the path and forest ahead of them.

Shiro and Ichigo glanced at each other, the pale copy shrugging. It would probably be best to keep the werepanther out of sight. Shiro's presence would bring enough attention. The last thing they needed was the villagers thinking King had brought back another person.

Renji watched the silent exchange before speaking up. "We should be fine once we reach the village. There's really no reason for any of you to follow us the rest of the way." He shrugged and glanced over to Rukia, who happily nodded her agreement.

"Alright, sounds good." Shiro said, watching the way the small woman gave the werecat a slightly disgruntled and almost hostile look. It was a look he was used to seeing trained on himself by the woman when she thought no one was watching. Shirosaki rolled his inverted, golden eyes and dismissed the little wench.

Grimmjow disappeared back into the forest as the four humans pulled their horses to a halt at the village limits.

Ichigo and Shiro bid farewell to Renji and Rukia, making the red head promise to visit again soon.

Renji laughed, a wide and genuine smile on his face. "I will, promise." He told the twins as he climbed up behind Rukia on her horse. He turned to scan the tree line. "Uh, see you later, Grimmjow" He called, not sure where the cat was or if he would hear him.

A deep, rumbling laugh answered him and Renji smiled as he and Rukia headed into the village.

The twins waved at them as they retreated into the town, then turned their horses around. Shiro tied the lead rope of the spare horse to his saddle and they nudged their mounts into an easy trot, headed back toward their home.

"Ya sure ya don't wanna ride, kitty cat?" Shiro called after the feline he knew was slinking around in the forest somewhere.

"Quite sure." The deep voice of Grimmjow called back. "Oh, and fuck you."

"Tch, maybe later, kitty. Maybe later." Shiro could imagine the cat curling his lips to bare his teeth at him for calling him 'kitty cat' and he chuckled.

••••••

Rukia and Renji dismounted, the smaller woman leading the horse by the reins as they walked through the more crowded streets.

"Sooo... what's wrong?" the red head asked, looking at the raven haired girl from the corner of his eyes.

"What makes you think anything is wrong?" Rukia asked back, forcing a playful smile on her lips.

Renji shrugged lightly. "You've just been awfully quiet this morning." He said, glancing around at some of the stalls in the open air market around them. People bustled about, enjoying the warmer weather. Sunny days were an increasing rarity this time of year, the leaves had yet to start shedding, but it was only a matter of time.

"Yes, well." The woman said, a bit of bite showing through in her tone. The red head turned to look at her, but she shook her head, dismissing it and forcing another smile onto her face. "Just kind of tired, I guess." She said light heartedly, reaching up to pat the horses neck gently.

The real issue was Shirosaki and that monster. Ichigo should be living in the village still, he should be with his friends instead of sulking around in the forest. The orange haired man that was once her friend should have been trying to lead a normal life and leaving his dark arts behind. Instead he was busy doing who knew what and associating with monsters that could and would destroy him.

Renji had nearly gotten killed because of the werepanther and Rukia had a feeling the monster was going to be around to stay. The beast was even given a room in the twins' home! He would be the death of Ichigo, she knew it. Between the monster and Ichigo's dead twin...

The woman shook her head and rolled her eyes. Ichigo would never learn and he would never listen to what anyone said. He would have to find out the hard way.

Renji gave her an incredulous look, but didn't press the matter. He could tell when she was brooding over something, no matter how convincing her smiles were. And he could guess closely enough where her thoughts were. She hadn't exactly hidden the fact that she didn't like Shiro and Ichi's new friend, or the pale twin, for that matter.

••••••

Grimmjow had outpaced the twins and their horses, disappearing into the forest and staying out of sight. It put the men on edge slightly, but they trusted the feline and knew he would keep an eye on the surrounding area better than they could.

A low rumble from up ahead reached the twins' ears, the first signs of Grimmjow either had noticed since dropping Renji and Rukia off at the village edge. Matching frowns stretched across their features.

Shiro sent King a glance before turning back toward the sound. There was a bend in the path just ahead, the view blocked by the trees and thick under growth. His hand instinctively reached under his cloak to his favorite gun strapped under the opposite arm. The motion was so second nature to him, he hardly realized he had done it.

The two men cautiously guided their mounts around the bend. It couldn't be anything too dangerous. Aside from the low growl, Grimmjow hadn't given any indication that he had run into a problem, and the growl seemed more annoyed than angry. It hadn't held the wild furry the two men were used to hearing when the cat battled.

The source of the feline's agitation finally came into view as they rounded the bend. Grimmjow sat in the middle of the path, slim black tail flicking about behind his feline body and his ears lay flat in silent threat.

In front of him, the lithe, brown werewolf stood blocking the path. It's ears were still held straight, it's grey eyes looked only at Grimmjow and it's posture was none threatening, almost relaxed. It payed the humans and their horses no attention, even when Shiro drew his gun, almost as if he was purposely ignoring them.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Grimmjow" The wolf said in answer to the panther's growl. It's voice seemed friendly enough and held a hint of amusement.

"Yeah yeah." Grimmjow said, standing and walking around the werewolf to continue down the path, his padded paws making not a sound against the dirt of the earth. He paused to veer into his resurrection, the form that gave him the most bulk and strength. The air crackled with his shift and the horses snorted and stamped their hooves behind the werecreatures.

"Why are you up so late? I know how much you love your sleep." Grimmjow asked without turning to the wolf, stretching as he continued to walk.

Shiro and Ichigo followed after the werepanther, their horses shying away from the wolf and dancing nervously. The horse tied off to Shiro's saddle tugged at the lead rope, tossing it's head without a rider to keep it calmed.

Starrk looked at the animals as they passed him, his eyes wandering to the humans. Such small creatures; the humans. They didn't look like much, but Starrk knew better. These two were certainly deceptive. Both held more power then they let on, maybe more power than they realized.

A low, rumbling growl had his attention snapping back to Grimmjow. The cat didn't bother looking at him, just continued to walk away. His ears were flattened again and his tail lashed back and forth in angry swipes, warning him against touching the humans.

The Pack leader carefully followed after the feline, sticking to the very edge of the path and away from the men Grimmjow seemed so protective over. He wasn't here to anger the cat, only to talk.

He yawned, as if in answer to the cat's question, as he matched Grimmjow's steady, sure strides, careful to keep his own movement easy and none threatening. The cat seemed relaxed, but the grace and fluidity of his movements hinted at his readiness and awareness.

"Yes, Lilynette can be quite the handful" He told the cat. He didn't see a need for Grimmjow to know what he was really losing sleep over.

Grimmjow snorted. He could tell Starrk was hiding something, but he didn't think the wolf was here for an attack. That wasn't Starrk's style and his keen senses were only picking out one other wolf in the area. Starrk's second went everywhere the leader went. It was just good business, one never left their leader alone with a dangerous predator.

"What do you want, Starrk?" Grimmjow asked, still not bothering to meet the wolf's eye. "And tell your lap dog to get out here. I don't like him lurking around."

The werecat heard Shiro's second gun slide from it's holster when he mentioned the second wolf. The crunch of hooves paused for a few moments before continuing. The two men had dropped their horses back a few more meters behind them, putting a little more space between them and the wolves. He didn't need to look to know that Shiro and Ichigo were being careful and though he didn't think Starrk meant trouble, he was thankful they were smart enough to be cautious.

"I don't know if that's really a good idea, Grimm. Nnoitra isn't too happy with you right now." Starrk said, almost afraid to go against what the cat said, lest he anger him and Grimmjow decides he's done talking. He could sense the cat's renewed strength and confidence and he had no desire for a repeat of the encounter they had the night before.

"Well, good. The feeling's mutual." Grimmjow grunted, ears swiveling slightly to keep track of the second beast. "Get your ass out here, mutt!" He half shouted, raising his voice to a purposefully mocking tone.

"Now, Grimmjow..." Starrk's words were cut off and he heaved a hopeless sigh as the big, black wolf stepped from the forest edge on Grimmjow's other side.

Nnoitra had his ears pinned back, a snarl full of sharp, glistening fangs on his features as a growl rumbled from his throat. He glared at the feline with all the menace he could muster as he stalked from the cover of the trees.

Grimmjow's ears dropped back again, his icy blue eyes darting to the wolf, but he refused to acknowledge it's presence and continued walking down the path. Nnoitra wouldn't try anything with Starrk around to keep him in check. Grimmjow was, however, a little nervous about the unpredictable beast being so near the humans, but at least if he was in the open they would have sufficient warning if he attacked. The Caster and Shiro would be able to see it coming and defend themselves.

"Now, what do you want, Starrk?" Grimmjow asked, keeping his gaze neutral and trained ahead, his body and muscles loose but ready for anything.

"Always quick to the point" Starrk sighed. He too kept his vision trained ahead and hoped Nnoitra wouldn't do anything stupid. He watched Grimmjow's slight nod of agreement from the corner of his gray eyes and continued. "I thought you enjoyed your solitude, Grimmjow..."

"Aww, are your puppies worried about me associating with humans again?" Grimmjow asked, not quite able to keep the bitter, mocking sarcasm out of his voice. He could already see where this was going. It was none of the wolves' business what he did.

"Something like that." Starrk answered. "What are you doing with them, Grimmjow?"

To Grimmjow's left, Nnoitra stalked in a little closer than he needed to and Grimmjow spun around, teeth bared and a hiss thrown the wolf's way. Nnoitra's lone eye looked to Starrk, slight surprise lighting it's depths, then he took a step back and gave the cat his space.

"Your right, Starrk. I do enjoy my solitude. I have no need for followers, nor do I want them." Grimmjow answered, his tone a bit clipped as he turned back around and continued walking. The human fortress wasn't far away now and the one eyed wolf was making him nervous. If an attack was forthcoming, it would happen soon.

The werepanther stopped, knowing that the barrier was only a few meters ahead, through the trees. He spun to face the opposite direction, backing off the path and keeping the wolves in his sight.

"Then why...?" Starrk began to rephrase his question. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Grimmjow wouldn't give him a straight answer, but he tried anyway.

"Because I can." Grimmjow said, cutting the Alpha wolf's question short. "Because I want to. Because they have gained my attention."

Just down the path from them, Shiro and Ichigo halted their nervous horses, unsure what was going on. They watched as Grimmjow backed out of the path, standing on the edge. The wolves followed his lead and left the path as well, neither of them setting eyes on the twins.

Grimmjow waved them forward, motioning for the humans to go past and into the safety of the barrier before he did. He wouldn't be able to get through in the form he was in, but he would be damned if he relinquished his resurrection while they were still on the wrong side of the invisible seal.

Shiro looked over at Ichigo. The Caster looked wary and at the ready, but returned his gaze, confidence shining in his warm eyes. Shiro nodded, then using his knees he backed his stallion up a few steps, letting Ichigo move his own mount in front.

The pale man kept his weapons trained on the wolves; one on either side of the path. His horse flared it's nostrils and snorted, but listened to his commands well enough and followed Ichigo's horse, sticking to the very middle of the path. Shiro watched the way the creatures around them acted. The brown wolf resolutely held his gaze away from them as they passed, the black one seemed almost jumpy and Shiro could see, from the corner of his eyes, that Grimmjow watched it. The cat's posture and body language gave his nervousness away to anyone that looked close enough.

The werepanther carefully watched the wolves, paying attention to the moved and shifted. Starrk was relaxed and laid back as always, his larger second was more tense, watching the humans from his lone eye. He didn't like Nnoitra, never had. The big brute made him nervous, and now was no exception.

An almost imperceptible twitch in the mongrel's muscles sent Grimmjow into a ready crouch, teeth bared as he glared at the giant wolf. The creature's violet eye darted to watch him warily, glancing to Starrk and back to the cat several times before it took a reluctant step back and away from the path.

The humans were past them by this point, having just crossed the barrier. Grimmjow backed away from the wolves, stopping only once he could feel the tingling of the magical seal only mere inches away.

"We're done here, Starrk." He said, watching the wolves. He was done entertaining them. They had nothing to talk about that could possibly be worth his time. He understood Starrk's fear. The leader of the Pack was worried he was out for power again; afraid that he would become a threat again. He was right to fear.

Grimmjow smirked. "You've been at the top for too long."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Firstly, huge thanks to everyone that has started reading this recently and to those of you that have been around since the first chapter. You guys seriously make my day**

**More plot development, yay!  
>Enjoy~<br>**

* * *

><p>Reclining on his perch, Starrk rested his chin in one of his hands and yawned. He watched his highest ranking underlings bicker and snip at each other in agitation and nervousness; acting like pups as they argued amongst themselves.<p>

Tension was high, members were butting heads and causing problems in the ranks. More of the lower members were going rogue. More strays were slinking about. Some of the strays were banding together with the rogue members, gaining strength in numbers and attacking the surrounding villages. Some were even going as far as changing some of their human prey into wolves, a taboo forbidden for good reasons.

Most humans that were turned into werewolves gained an unquenchable hunger and blood lust that eventually drove them mad. More often than not, they stumbled into the wrong section of forest and entered Pantera territory, where the feline undoubtedly took care of them. Very few learned to cope with the new and heightened instinctual drives. Only the highest ranking wolves were allowed to select humans to turn because they were able to sense the necessary qualities a human needed to survive.

Rival bands of strays along with their newly changed humans were beginning to shed werewolf blood, some of the larger groups even daring to threaten Pack territory. Conflicts were increasing, usually resulting in the rogues' deaths, but killing ones own always left a bitter taste in the mouth. Starrk himself had killed numerous wolves he had once considered part of his Pack.

No one knew what Grimmjow was up to. The mysterious werepanther's name alone was usually enough to cause a commotion under normal circumstances. Now he was making the Pack members even more nervous by befriending the powerful human Caster and Undead, and his words to Starrk certainly did nothing to put their fears at ease.

Starrk was convinced the feline had meant nothing by his comment; that he was only acting his old mocking self, but many members didn't agree. They were used to the elusive, almost timid cat that stayed hidden in his territory. Most of the members didn't remember the Grimmjow that existed before the cat had ran into trouble, and it seemed Grimmjow was finally beginning to recover from his binding so long ago.

A decent portion of the higher ups wanted cat blood. Still others were undecided, leaning toward eliminating the feline once and for all so they wouldn't have to deal with him any longer. Not that the task would be as easy as they made it out to be.

Starrk had been able feel, as well as see the changes that had come over La Pantera in their short conversation. He was regaining his strength, possibly regaining some of the power he had once held, though the Alpha wasn't sure the werecat even knew it yet. It seemed just being around a couple of humans was enough to effect the deidad.

The leader of Los Lobos feared the extra stress during already rough times would rip the Pack in half. Rifts were already beginning to form. The evidence of said cracks were apparent from where he sat, watching the wolves gathered around him. More than once, Starrk had almost needed to intervene in an argument turned fight.

All the while, Nnoitra crouched at his side, carefully watching the other wolves with a trained eye. Much like natural wolves, the werewolf pack worked similar to a hierarchy and if one of the lower members felt the leader wasn't doing his job or was too weak to hold the mantle any longer, it would attempt to dethrone the Alpha.

Both Nnoitra and Starrk had heard the whispered rumors. The leader's inactivity with the feline menace wasn't going over well. The Pack wanted to know what was going on, they wanted answers and they wanted to know why Starrk had been so lenient with the werecat for so long.

It was only a matter of time before someone stepped out of line or went after the panther themselves. Starrk was unsure how much longer he would be able to keep his Pack in check.

He stood from his perch with a sigh, his stormy eyes scanning the rowdy crowd. Nnoitra followed his lead, hopping from the raised dais to follow behind Starrk and towering above the majority of the beasts around them. Both were cautious, though they walked with ease and let off an air of calm confidence. It wouldn't do for the leader to show that he was nervous. Showing weakness now could be all the push the Pack needed to head toward disaster.

The members parted down the middle, forming walls of living bodies to either side and making way for their Alpha and his second to leave the room. Most showed the respect accorded to the leader, but the evidence of upset glinted from more than one set of canine eyes.

Midway through the space, a stocky figure stood to block their path and refused to bow down.

Dark eyes flashed with challenge and scared lips curled to bare yellowed fangs. The wolf's coat was more grey than brown with age. He was among the oldest of the still living werewolves, yet still very much a capable fighter. The challenger's stature was shorter and bulkier than the majority of the Originals, but it was all muscle and the older wolf stood his ground on steady feet as he stared Starrk in the eye.

Starrk sighed again, unsurprised that this older male would be his challenger. He and this wolf had disagreed on nearly every issue from the moment Starrk had come into power. Nor was he surprised that the old, scared male would challenge him so soon. This was a beast who knew how to take advantage of situations, and that's what he was trying to do now.

The Alpha laid his ears back and continued to meet the older male's stare, letting his body language accept the challenge. To back down would be to lose his standing as Pack leader, possibly even lose his life.

The gathered members parted further, the narrow path widening into a circular open area, giving the combatants room to maneuver and fight. Murmurs rose up. Wolves voiced cheers and yipped in anticipation. Fights among leaders were a rarity and a treat to watch. No one had dared challenge Starrk's rein in decades and some were wandering if it was a mistake to keep him on the throne for so long.

A snarl, the most menacing and threatening sound anyone could remember hearing from the current Alpha, silenced the room. Starrk entered a battle ready crouch, his muscled body tense and ready as he let his opponent have the first strike. If they wanted a show, he would give them one none would soon forget.

The older wolf pounced as Starrk lowered his body. The beast's speed was deceptive and the Alpha knew his strength would be as well. He rolled his body around to the left, dodging the main attack and only receiving a couple shallow gashes along his forearm from the wolf's claws.

Ignoring the minor wound and completing his evasive maneuver, a simmering fury lit Starrk's eyes and he launched himself at the creature's exposed back with a vicious anger the usually calm Alpha rarely showed. The challenging wolf barely had time to turn around and grapple with the Alpha. They toppled to the hard packed, earthen floor; a mass of sharp fangs and tearing claws.

The onlookers scrambled out of the way, yet were unwilling to leave the room and miss the fight, as the two combatants tumbled and rolled about amidst snarling growls and yelping.

There was no finesse, only a show of brute force; a race to see who's teeth could inflict more damage as Starrk and the older male continued tearing into each other with wild abandon. They slammed into a wall, dust falling from the earthen surface to coat their fur lightly and brake their holds on one another.

Starrk took the opportunity presented to him as the other male staggered to his feet, slightly dazed by the force with which he had hit the wall.

The younger wolf wrapped one hand around the elder's throat, the other reaching to grab at the wolf's flailing arms. He snapped his jaws shut mercilessly over the grey muzzle of the challenger, snarling and growling his fury.

With a vicious shake of his head, Starrk drove his opponent to the ground, his teeth and claws drawing blood where he latched on and refused to let go.

The older male continued to struggle, snarling and snapping his jaws at the wolf above him. The pressure around his muzzle and neck increased to an almost crippling pressure at nearly the same time and he was quickly left gasping for air while a pained whimper crawled from his obstructed throat. After a moment, he lay still, relaxing his quivering muscles and averting his dark eyes from the victorious Alpha.

Starrk snarled vehemently as the animal relaxed, an almost cruel glint in his usually placid grey eyes. He shook his head again, fangs tearing into the older male's snout and adding to the scars he already bore. Slowly, he released his hold and rose from his opponent, straightening and never letting his eyes leave the wolf's form.

The defeated wolf cowered, tucking it's tail between it's legs in submission as it obediently kept it's eyes aimed at the floor. Blood trickled down it's muzzle to drip on the floor and mix with the dirt.

Starrk spun to the rest of the Originals that crowded around behind he and the defeated wolf; ears pinned back and hackles raised. He bared his teeth in a savage snarl and dared any other insubordinate member to challenge his rein as Pack leader.

Slowly, each and every werewolf in the room lowered their eyes to the floor and acknowledged Starrk as Alpha.

••••••

Padding through the forest, Grimmjow enjoyed the solitude and silence of the peaceful night. He took a deep breath, savoring the earthy scent of the dirt and foliage around him. His sharp, nearly glowing blue eyes searched the shadowed trees around him and his ears were perked, listening to the hushed sounds that buzzed through the trees.

His body and senses may have been alert, but they were running on autopilot; a simple habit formed of instinct and experience. His mind wandered far and wide as he roamed his territory with no particular goal or destination.

The human men he had spent the past few days with had offered him a place in their home. Ichigo and Shiro had left their doors open to him, promising he would always have a room to stay in, no matter his decision. He had been delighted. The werecat found that he wanted nothing more than to stay and protect the human men he had befriended; to get to know them better, to observe them more, be with them more.

He had of course accepted their offer and the rest of the evening had consisted of exploring the large building the Caster and his pale copy called home and talking to the humans. He had learned quite a bit about the two humans. Very little of the conversations had been about their past, but he had gathered that theirs' was a rather sad story. Neither Shiro nor Ichigo had seemed comfortable with indulging his curiosity about some of their more personal issues, though. So he hadn't pushed it and they enjoyed a calm evening in the sitting room.

After the sun had gone down, the moon high in the midnight sky, the Caster had curled up in his brother's lap and fallen asleep. Shortly after, Grimmjow's wild instincts had forced him to uncurl himself from his own spot in a different chair. He had left the room and wandered the extensive halls for a while, hoping to quell his restlessness, but it had done little to dampen the relentless need for movement.

He had gone back down the stairs, headed for the front door. Pausing in the door way to the occupied sitting room, he hadn't needed to say a word. The pale human had looked at him for a few moments, his golden orbs glittering in the flickering fire light, then he nodded his head slightly and went back to gently stroking Ichi's hair. Shiro had redirecting his inverted gaze back to the wall in front of him, silently excepting Grimmjow's need and whatever decision he made.

Grimmjow had slipped out the door without a sound hours ago and had been ambling about his territory, lost in thought, ever since. He wanted to go back and curl up with the humans. He wanted to fall asleep by their sides again, but his restless nature prevented his return. And so, for now at least, he roamed wherever his instincts and feet took him.

The werepanther was pulled from his musings as his pads landed on hard packed, smooth stones. Blinking from his reverie, a slight smirk tugged at the feline's lips as he cast his vivid eyes around the decrepit ruins of a once grand temple.

He stepped through what was left of an elaborately arched door way, stepping over a few fallen blocks of stone as he did so. It had been years since he had visited the temple that had been built in his honor and blessed in his name.

Half of the front wall, to the left of the door way he had just entered, had collapsed. Sections of the once high arching and painted ceiling had crumbled, the gaps showing the stars over head. A thin blanket of moss covered most of the stone edifices and vines grew to wind around once elaborately decorated support columns.

Grimmjow ran his finger tips over one of the stone columns, feeling the intricate carvings below the moss, as he passed it by. He didn't need to see the elaborate etchings to know what they depicted. He could still remember each and every one of them like it had only been a few days since his last visit.

His fingertips sank into deep, jagged gashes among the moss. Wincing at memories of how the deep claw marks had come to mar the once perfect stone, Grimmjow retracted his hand and pushed his thoughts away. Taking his time, the werepanther carefully and slowly picked his way through the fallen rubble toward the only untouched structure in the abandoned temple.

Having been sealed and enchanted by a Caster masterful in his craft and loyal in his worship, the stone would never crumble, never grow brittle or be tarnished by the ravages of time. It would forever remain as pristine in it's brutal beauty and would still stand after the original occupant was long gone.

The werepanther mounted the steep tiers of the raised dais and took a seat upon his throne. He ran his hands over the smooth, unblemished stone of the arm rests and leaned back. The pristine white color mocked the blood that had been spilt in his name; enough blood to fill this place of worship and more. The elaborate chair felt the same as it always had; just as familiar as when he had resided here so long ago.

Molded into the illusion of bone, the mighty throne had been fashioned to reflect the wild, violent nature of the god that it had been intended for. The arm rests had been carved to resemble the long leg bones of a now extinct predatory beast; the legs of his throne resembled stacked neck and back vertebrae from the same creature. The back, sculpted to look like a twisted ribcage, was tall. It ended in a sharp, twisting, tapering point at the top that nearly reached the ceiling and loomed over all that would bow before La Pantera.

The once mighty deidad rested his elbow on the arm of his throne and placed his chin in his hand. His tail fell through a gap in between the rib structure at his back and flicked about lazily below him as his sharp, other worldly eyes took on a far away look.

••••••

Dainty hands tugged at the back of his shirt and Renji turned around to look down at the raven haired woman with a small smile on his face. As soon as he saw her, he wished he hadn't looked, he could already tell she wanted something and he wasn't going to be able to refuse the look on her pretty face.

Raising a single tattooed brow, he looked down at her and didn't bother asking while he did his best to harden his resolve.

"Are you really planning to visit Ichi more often?" Rukia asked, doing her best to keep her voice neutral and innocent.

"I would like to, why?" The red asked, suspicion showing through in his voice. There was no way he was going to let her talk him out of seeing the twins more often. He had enjoyed the short day of his last visit and he missed his friends.

Shiro and Ichigo seemed to enjoy his company as well, those two didn't have many friends any more and he was sure they could use a visit every once in a while.

Rukia sighed and looked up at the taller man. "It's dangerous out there..." She said, making her voice small and unassuming. "Will you at least considering getting a gun? What if the werewolves try to attack again?"

Renji let his features soften as he realized she was only worried about him. Giving her a small hug, he smiled a little.

"I'll think about it. There's still a shop around here that sells silver slugs I think" He said, watching as her expression started to look a little happier.

"You'll only think about it?" The petite woman asked. "That monster would have killed you if..." Her voice trailed off and a slight sneering expression crossed her features before she could stop it. "If it wouldn't have helped."

"I know you don't like him, but Ichigo and Shiro's new friend doesn't really seem that bad, Rukia."

"If you say so." She huffed quietly. "Either way, you still need to be able to protect yourself while you're on your way."

The red head nodded slightly, his wild mane catching the dieing sun light that streamed through the window. He had to admit, he had no desire to run across another werewolf, especially without a way to protect himself. Maybe a gun wouldn't be such a bad idea.

While he was getting one for himself, he would pick up one for Rukia also, so that she would have one at home with her incase she should need to come after him for some reason. He didn't want her leaving the house unprepared, especially with the colder season approaching. Attacks on surrounding villages had been increasing, it couldn't hurt to be prepared. Who knew, she may end up needing a weapon while she was at home by herself. He certainly hoped not, but one could never be too careful under circumstances such as these.

Rukia hid her smirk as she watched cinnamon colored eyes swirl with thought. She knew Renji all too well. He was inherently protective and selfless by nature, he would ultimately turn her little suggestion from protecting himself to protecting her.

As he spoke his ideas, the raven haired woman put on an alarmed expression and schooled her features so he would be none the wiser.

"Maybe we should get you one as well" Renji suggested, looking down into wide violet eyes. "Just so you wont have to worry while I'm gone, so if anything should happen, you would be prepared." He quickly added when she started to look a little uneasy and worried.

"Do you really think I would need one?" Rukia wrapped her arm's around his middle while she spoke, hiding the smirk still trying to take over her features against his shirt.

"I hope not, but it can't hurt" Renji hugged her back.

By the end of the day, they were locking their new weapons away in a cupboard. Renji had bought two hand guns and a case each of silver shells from a shop Shirosaki had told him about a while back, before the albino had started making his own slugs. The place still sold silver even though it was expensive and more difficult to make than the typical lead.

Renji locked and barred the front door as he and Rukia headed off to bed, already feeling more at ease knowing that they had something that would be able to hurt a werewolf should they need it.

••••••

Shiro listened to the feline quietly close the door behind himself as he tenderly ran his milky fingers through soft, orange locks.

King slept curled on his lap with his head resting on Shiro's toned chest. The albino listened to, as well as felt the steady inhale and exhale of Ichigo's breaths. He stared absently at the fire in the hearth, fingers gently combing through King's hair as he thought about the events that had transpired that evening.

He and King had discussed the various possible outcomes of offering their feline guest a more permanent stay. They knew it was in the cat's nature to roam, to live in the forest; he was a wild, instinctual creature, after all. They knew he may not want to stay, or may not be able to stay permanently for one reason or another. But they had both wanted to make the offer anyway.

A few mere weeks ago, Shiro had been calling the man a monster; a dangerous beast he had warned King to stay away from. He would have rather shot and killed the creature than talked to it. In fact, he had shot the panther. Now, the pale twin didn't like listening to him leave and wandering if he would be back.

The look in the werecat's blue eyes had been haunting when he had paused in the door way. Shiro wondered if the man even knew how lost he had looked.

Shirosaki bent down slightly and kissed the sleeping man in his arms. Gently, the near-albino repositioned his hold, cradling Ichigo close. He slowly stood, careful to not jostle his copy too much.

Ichigo shifted and groaned quietly, burying his face in Shiro's neck as he slept.

Shiro froze and waited for the man to fall still again before he continued moving and left the room, carrying Ichigo toward their bedroom on the second floor. He carefully ascended the spiral stairs and tread down the hallway. Turning sideways, Shiro carried his King through the door way to their room and padded to the side of the bed.

Settling the orange haired man down on the mattress, Shiro was in the process of pulling the covers over him when the Caster pried open sleepy, brown eyes.

Blowing a sigh, the albino hung his head for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing orange strands from Ichigo's face.

"S'ok, King, go back ta sleep" He said softly.

"mmm...are you going to bed too?" Ichigo asked tiredly, peeking up at Shiro for a moment before closing his eyes again.

"Not yet, soon though" Shiro answered, pulling the navy blankets of their shared bedspread up around Ichigo's shoulders.

The orange head pried his heavy lids open again to look up at his beloved twin. "Why not? It's late"

"yeah, I know..." Shiro hesitated in telling him why he wasn't going to bed quite yet.

As if sensing the reason for Shiro's hesitation, Ichigo sat up slightly, a light frown creasing his brows. "Where's Grimmjow? Did he already go up to his room?"

The pale man closed his gold on black eyes for a moment and sighed, knowing that Ichigo would worry about the feline once Shiro told him the cat was gone.

"Uhh, nah. He went out fer a bit" He said, hoping to ease the still sleepy man enough for him to go back to sleep.

"Is he ok?" Ichigo asked, sitting up further and pulling the blankets away. He could see that his brother was hiding something and that made him worry.

Shiro sighed again and leaned his head on King's shoulder. He shrugged a little. "Don't really know. He's been gone a while now" The pale man answered honestly. There was no point in trying to lie to Ichigo, especially now that he was awake. "I was ganna go look for him and make sure"

"By yourself? The forest is dangerous and it's dark out, you should have just woke me up" Ichigo scolded, but there was no real anger in his voice. He could never be angry at Shiro.

Together, the twins got up and readied themselves to go looking for the cat. They knew it might be a difficult task to track him, it was dark out and they both had seen how easily the feline could disappear into the forest when he didn't want to be found. But as they crossed the yard and began searching the forest edge, it became evident that Grimmjow hadn't tried to hide his movements from them. The path he had taken was clearly laid out before them and easy enough for an experienced hunter to follow.

Shiro lead the way, one gun drawn and held at the ready before him. Ichigo followed closely behind him, keeping his senses opened and alert to the darkened forest. They hadn't heard or seen any signs of werewolves and they both doubted there would be any around with Grimmjow prowling about, but it usually paid off to be careful.

The trail curved about, never really making a bee line in any direction for too long, almost as if the werepanther had been lost or unsure of where to go. Both options seemed unlikely, seeing as they were fairly certain they were still in Pantera territory.

The albino was beginning to get frustrated and annoyed, with a little worry mixed in, as he continued to follow the unpredictable path. Something about the wandering trail didn't seem right, but it had to be the werepanther's. The markings and prints they found were too small and light to be from a member of the larger werewolf species.

Finally, after what seemed like much longer than it probably really was, Shiro froze in his tracks. The surrounding area held the tense, hushed silence the pale man hated so much, but the longer he was around the werecat, the more he was getting used to it and what it meant. It followed Grimmjow everywhere he went and so he knew that cat had to be near by.

Ichigo nearly bumped into his twin at the sudden halt. Giving his brother a frown, he edged around to Shiro's side to see what he had found.

The werecat's trail lead to an over grown clearing, the grasses and underbrush growing thick in what had once been a well manicured and cared for space. A path of broken cobble lead to the main entrance of a dilapidated structure. Six enormous feline-like statues, three on either side, lined the path like sentries; their features weathered away by time and several of them nearly unrecognizable in their state of collapse.

Ichigo stepped around his twin, edging onto the path with wide eyes as he took in the sight before them.

In the center of the clearing stood the ruins of a grand temple. The structure was old and ravaged by time and the elements, but no less great. What was left of the vaulted ceiling reached the very top of the tallest trees. Six more elaborately carved statues stood at the front of the entrance like guardians of an important being. Their arms were raised above their heads, palms flat to the sky to hold the stone awning that had once created a sheltered over hang across the front. Wrapped in chains as if in servitude and baring battle scars, these statues had almost canine features.

Ichigo reached behind him and grabbed Shiro's hand, pulling his pale copy along. They slowly made their way along the disheveled cobble path to the front of the temple. Shiro pushed King behind him protectively, drawing his gun again, and carefully stepped around the door way to press his back along the still standing wall at the right. He scanned the area, looking for any signs of danger, but his eyes were instantly drawn to the large, white throne sitting in the center of the back wall, and the lone occupant that sat upon it.

The Caster followed behind his twin, his eyes immediately drawn to Grimmjow as well.

Vibrant, blue eyes shone and nearly glowed in the dark of the temple, but they held a far away, almost lost look. The cat sat upon his throne, chin in one taloned hand, tail lazily flicking back and forth. He was so lost in his pensive thoughts that the feline gave no indication that he knew he had company as he watched what only he could see.

Something about the sight drew the human's toward the cat. An almost unnatural tug pulled them forward with the need to reassure the creature they had come to care for over such a short period of time. The heavy mood and emotions permeating the very air in the old building were so unusual of the feline and the twins found themselves standing only a few meters away from the mighty throne, both trying to decide what to do as the cat still didn't react to their presence.

Feeling the need to break the tense silence and draw the cat from his apparently dark thoughts, Ichigo spoke up.

"Do...do you miss...?" The question hung in the air, loud in the thick silence as blue eyes snapped to his form.

The cat didn't move, but his vivd, cold eyes pinned Ichigo to his spot and rendered him immobile. The fury and threat that had initially swirled in deep azure melted away as recognition and acceptance took it's place.

Blue eyes looked from the Caster to his pale copy before Grimmjow sighed quietly and curled his back legs underneath of him where he perched on his abandoned throne. His slim black tail ceased it's swaying and came to rest, curled around him where he sat, in an almost shielding manner as it lay across his feet.

The repositioning of the cat's tail had been an unconscious one, born of the feline feeling vulnerable, and Ichigo found that it pained him to see Grimmjow looking so unlike his usual self; so down and upset. The feline seemed drawn in on himself, consumed by whatever thoughts plagued him.

The cat finally spoke in answer to Ichigo's unfinished question. His deep voice caressed the air and resounded about the temple like the finest of silks, almost as if the building it's self had missed it as he softly spoke.

"No, not really" He said, to the surprise of the humans. "I enjoyed my rein as a deidad, but I don't miss the attention. Don't miss greedy humans trying to... I don't miss having to watch my followers struggle to survive in hard times, or watch them die in my name..." His voice trailed off as a particular memory presented it's self.

The memory of a great War, a battle long lost on human memory, played in his mind. The battle that had destroyed his temple, killed his followers and nearly ended him as well. The memory of the sorrow and regret that filled stormy grey eyes as they looked down at him filled his vision. He could see that the creature hovering above him was speaking, but the words were lost on him. He had been spared and a silent understanding had been born while he hissed and bared fangs at the one that had been his hated enemy for so long.

Not daring to brake the silence, neither Ichigo nor Shiro spoke as the werecat relived his past. After a few moments, his voice floated to them, a rough, brittle edge to it.

"I buried all the bodies I could find...each in their own grave..." Grimmjow told them. He knew they probably didn't know what he was talking about, but he didn't care at that point. The need to tell someone forced him to give words to what he had never told another living being. Very few knew of how his rein had ended, or how devastating it had been.

He had personally sought out the body of every one of his fallen worshippers and buried them in human tradition. Refusing to even address his own injuries, he had lost track of how long had passed before he found and buried all the fallen humans; men, women and children that had died in his name. It may have been days, it may have been months. It didn't matter. All that mattered to him was that he honor his human followers, the way they had honored him, one last time. For what was a deidad without his followers?

His forest, his territory, was built on the fallen faith of his dead followers. Their bodies had nourished the trees that found life after the battle had died away and the blood had soaked into the earth.

"and then I drug myself here..." He would have been happy to die, would have welcomed the end to his pain and memories. With his self imposed task done, he had hoped to succumb to his wounds at last and join his fallen humans as he lay alone, curled on his throne in his ruined temple. But he hadn't. Instead, a powerful and faithless human had found him and bound him when he had been at his weakest.

The uneasy memories forced a shiver down his spine and he curled his lip to bare curved fangs. An undeniable rage welled up in him and the werepanther launched from his throne.

The faithless man had healed Grimmjow's battle wounds, only to force him into servitude; to use him, to use his strength and his power. The human had stripped his free will away and pitted him against the man's own enemies in an attempt to become like the god he had helped destroy.

Grimmjow pinned the human with his gaze alone, some part of him not willing to harm this Caster even in his rage and memory fogged state. He was only half aware of what was going on around him as he continued to relive his hated memories. The safety of a gun clicked, but he hardly noticed.

The orange haired man stared at the cat, lips parted in shock and eyes wide with a hint of primal fear swirling in their depths. Grimmjow had moved too fast for either of the men to register, and he now stood mere inches away from Ichigo where he had his back pressed to one of the moss covered columns.

The snarl of vicious teeth only an inch from his face weakened his knees, but he forced himself to stay calm and look the werepanther in the eye. In the back of his mind, Ichigo knew the cat wouldn't harm him. It was obvious Grimmjow was dealing with something very personal and very strong at the moment and he somehow knew that what the cat said next would decide weather the man came home with them or stayed here to disappear from memory again.

"It will never happen again." The cat snarled at him, blue eyes boring holes through the Caster. "I will never be bound again..." His voice was quieter this time, the rage in his eyes dissipating, giving way to an immense dread as his body began to tremble almost imperceptibly.

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He couldn't work words past the lump in his throat as he was suddenly faced with the reason Grimmjow had been so enraged. The werepanther was afraid.

As a Caster, Ichigo understood what it meant for an entity to be bound to someone else's will. He had been born with the ability, and had heard what it could do to the bound creature. It had destroyed the most mighty beings; turning them into mindless monsters, meant only to do what their master said. The worst part about the whole thing was that the bound creature could still understand what was happening to it, but it couldn't refuse. It could still feel and think and hurt while it's will and body were commanded by someone else.

"never..." he whispered and threw his arms around the werepanther's thick neck. The cat froze under his grip, but didn't pull away and Ichigo spoke again. "I would never do that to you..."

Finally, Grimmjow relaxed under his embrace and nodded.

"I know" he said quietly. He relinquished his resurrection and returned the human's comforting hug as a man; not a monster, nor creature, not a god or deidad, but as a man. And for the first time in decades, his instincts didn't war and scream at being so close and so vulnerable around a human.

••••••

Starrk snarled his still simmering fury and sent his near by underlings scurrying. Even Nnoitra treaded carefully around him in the face of his unusual rage.

After defeating his challenger, Starrk had stormed from the room unhindered. He had stalked and paced the corridors of his den structure for a while before a wolf that had always been loyal to him searched the Alpha out.

The wolf's vivid green eyes had shone in the dark and landed on his form from the other end of the hall and refused to look away, but there had been no challenge in them. The underling had told his leader of Pack members speaking about rebellion. Whispers were circulating that the defeated challenger was trying to build a base of followers from Starrk's ranks. The older male's goal was to pull strength from Starrk and steal the Pack for his own, even going as far as to turn it against the current leader. There were rumors that the traitorous wolf was promising cat blood to any member that joined him and that he was planning on eliminating the human's the feline associated with as well.

Nnoitra watched as Starrk continued to pace. "Why don't ya just kill him and be done with it?"

Starrk paused in his pacing and gave his second a deadpan look, raising one brow. "You know I don't work that way." He said in a drawling voice, then resumed his agitated stalking.

Even if he did kill off the challenger before the wolf could become a threat again, it was very possible that whatever support the older wolf had gathered would still come after Starrk and his role as leader. Killing the older wolf with no proof besides what his underlings had heard in whisper may also push some of the undecided members toward going against Starrk. He had to tread carefully in this situation.

The Alpha turned to his smaller underling. He watched wide, green eyes swing to follow his movements as the wolf patiently and silently waited for Starrk's orders.

"Let me know if you hear of anything else. For now we will bide our time and see what happens." He told the loyal werewolf.

"Yes, sir." The smaller male bowed slightly, then turned and dismissed himself, heading in the direction he had come.

Starrk turned back to address Nnoitra. "Go find Lilynette. Bring her to me."

The Alpha stalked off in the direction of his personal chambers, leaving his trusted second with his orders.

Nnoitra would do as he was told, and he would make sure the she-wolf remained unharmed on the journey. At this point, there was no telling what the enraged and rebellious members would do to get back at Starrk for his inactivity.

As the Alpha padded in the direction of his chambers, he began to wander if perhaps he had been too lenient and apathetic in his leadership toward his subordinates. It angered him even further to think that he may have to change his approach. He had spent so long at the head of the Pack without so much as the rumor of an upstart, it seemed almost impossible that he would have to worry about loosing the mantle of Alpha now.

The werewolf bared his curved fangs in the dark of the tunnel, his normally calm grey eyes swirling with seething emotions. He would take care of this issue, he would put an end to the problem, even if he had to rid himself of half the Pack. He could always rebuild.

••••••

Shiro slowly lowered his aimed gun away from the feline as he watched the events unfold.

Blue swirled with every emotion imaginable as black fur gave way to smooth, bronzed skin. Vertical slitted pupils rounded out as the man gave away his more powerful form in favor of returning King's embrace.

The albino holstered his gun. He wasn't entirely sure what had just transpired, it would have had to be one hell of a Caster to be able to bind the fierce and strong willed Pantera but then, he and Ichi still didn't have the full story, only bits and pieces that he had mumbled out loud. Shiro was just glad he hadn't had to hurt the man.

Grimmjow had seemed on the verge of braking down and attacking the orange haired Caster, but hadn't actually laid a hand on the smaller man. Shiro had been able to tell he didn't want to hurt Ichigo, but he had seen what pain and fear could drive a man to do.

The tension and painful emotions that had permeated the air seemed to be evaporating and Shiro turned to get a better look at the inside of the temple that had been dedicated to the deidad they had just invited into their home. The thought struck him and it finally hit home that he and King were involved, in many ways, with a very powerful individual.

"So this used ta be yers?" He asked over his shoulder, his watery tone curious as he walked toward the throne Grimmjow had been sitting in when they found him.

Ichigo carefully reached up and gently brushed the backs of his fingers across Grimmjow's jaw line, a small smile tilting his lips as he looked up into vivid blue. The Caster was mildly surprised when the feline didn't flinch away from the contact like usual, but he didn't let it show and was happy for it. He gave the man a small nod, meant to tell him that all was ok, before he stepped past and toward his twin.

"Yes, this is mine." The werepanther answered, following after the orange haired Caster that had joined his twin in front of the throne.

The two men looked up at the large, imposing structure of twisted bone. It was odd and little creepy looking, but beautiful none the less. Like the were-creature that claimed it, the throne held a wild and untamable air about it. It had a deadly grace that made the onlooker think of the man that was currently standing behind the twins.

Ichigo turned to look up at the bluenette. "It suits you" He said with a small smile.

Grimmjow smirked and nodded his head in agreement, glad that the humans had pulled him away from his past. His mind was much more at ease now, and he knew that Ichigo had been telling him the truth. This Caster was different from the others, this human would never try to break or bind him. And in return, he would never have to destroy the Caster or his brother.

Shiro ran his hand lightly over the seat of the large chair, feeling how smooth and perfectly carved it was. The craftsmanship of the throne showed how important La Pantera had been to the creator. Countless hours had been put into the task of making it before it had been sealed and given to the deidad.

The blue haired man froze when the pale human touched his throne. A shiver worked up his spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air against his bare body. It had been centuries since another living thing had touched it, and he had nearly forgotten that he could feel when someone did. The link between he and his symbolic throne was originally designed as a warning to the werepanther that someone was tampering with what was his. But it seemed that depending on the person's intent, the feeling he got from the contact was different.

Most natural creatures were instinctually driven away from his throne and temple by his lingering scent and aura. Even most humans that ever chanced upon it were repulsed and given an uneasy feeling by it, though it was hidden deep in a dangerous forest that very few dared to tread through and didn't happen often.

The two men before him seemed unbothered as they continued to look at, as if they didn't feel the throne's natural defenses or were immune to it.

"Why make it look like bone?" Ichigo asked curiously, looking back at the structure. He covered his mouth with his hand as a yawn worked it's way free.

Grimmjow walked past the humans, a slight swaggering in his step, and retook his place on his throne; looking for all the world like he belonged there. A smirk pulled across his handsome features as the Caster's face tinted a slight shade of pink and Shiro's golden eyes openly raked his naked form.

"It was shaped to resemble the bones of a creature called a Hollow. Hollows had no natural enemies, they were at the top of the food chain and used to roam the earth, terrorizing and killing the humans." Grimmjow explained, watching the men that stood in front of him.

The bluenette shrugged and sat back in his seat, unashamed and hardly noticing his state of undress around the two men. They would have to get used to it if he were to live with them, he couldn't wear clothes in his resurrection after all. "I began hunting them for the humans and killed off the last long ago."

Shiro walked around the back of the throne, inspecting the rib structure that Grimmjow leaned back against. The entirety of the structure had been carved from a single, large stone, giving it an immense strength and durability. There were no joins or pieces that could loosen or fall away.

"Were they all so odd lookin'?" He asked, fingers dancing along the twisted stone.

Grimmjow shuddered at the sensation but quickly recomposed himself. "Each one looked a little different."

Shiro raised a brow at the man's odd reaction but didn't bother to comment. He watched King yawn again and fond smile creased his pale lips.

"You guys ready ta go home yet?" He asked, walking around to the front of the throne again and not bothering to keep his eyes off the attractive bluenette sitting on the chair.

Ichigo nodded and looked to the werepanther still seated like a real king on his throne.

"Do we need ta find a way ta get that thing ta the house?" Shiro asked the smirking bluenette. Oddly enough, he felt Grimmjow's throne would fit strangely well in their castle like home.

Grimmjow's smirk turned into a soft smile as he thought about what the pale man asked.

"Nah. It belongs here" He said, standing from his perch and descending the tiered steps of the raised dais. Even if they could find a way to get the massive structure to the human's home, it's place would be forever in the ruined and abandoned temple of La Pantera.

Grimmjow had always meant when he said he didn't want his godhood back, he didn't need his throne any longer. He walked past the humans without looking back and exited his temple. He could always visit again if he ever felt so inclined in the future.

For now, though, his restlessness had finally settled down and he was looking forward to joining Shiro and Ichigo in bed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: you guys have no idea how hard it was to refrain from writing a random sex scene on that damn throne... but it really just wouldn't have fit with the feeling of this chapter...<strong>

**Ok, about the part where Grimm has his little breakdown. I hope it didn't confuse anyone. I was trying to write it to make it feel more like he was living/ seeing his past and what was happening in the present at the same time. *shrugs* hope it made sense  
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**Anyway~ What did you think about the chapter?  
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	8. Chapter 8

**AN: There have been a few anonymous reviews lately, I can't reply to those personally like I do to all the other comments, so I'd like to thank those few people that I can't reply to! I do read your comments too!**

**Also, if you havn't read _Monsters and Men: Welcome to the Family_ yet, you should *wink* (it's mildly referenced in this chapter for fun, but not necessary to understand the story)**

**Anyway, Enjoy~  
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* * *

><p>"Lay back down, King" Shiro mumbled as the bed shifted, his voice still heavy with sleep. He buried his face further into the warm, hard body beside him, not bothering to open his eyes.<p>

Grimmjow snorted and tightened his arm around the albino. He yawned, baring perfect white teeth for a moment, but didn't make to get up or disturb the still half asleep man at his side. The bluenette had been having one hell of dream and was a little disappointed that he had woken up but for now he was content to stay and lay in the warm bed.

Ichigo chuckled from his other side, sitting up a little more and looking down at his twin. "It's morning though, Shiro" He said teasingly, a smile on his face and in his voice. He hadn't been planning on getting up, only shifting to a more comfortable position, but he couldn't help but play with his tired brother's mind at least a little.

The sun was tinting the edges of the horizon pink and the few birds still around were singing. The cool, morning breeze rattled through what was left of the red and yellow leaves on the trees, smelling of rain and promising cooler weather for the rest of the season.

Shiro pried an inverted eye open to peek up at his more colorful copy. The room was still in shadow, the feeble light of the awakening sun barely reaching through the parted curtains.

"Tch, this don't count as mornin'."

The Caster smiled and leaned over the naked form of Grimmjow, pulling his twin into a soft yet passionate kiss. Shiro hummed into his mouth and slid his tongue out to languidly tangle with Ichigo's.

After a few, brief seconds, Ichigo pulled away and settled back on the mattress, resting his head on the werepanther's chest. He draped his arm across the man's toned stomach and laced his finger's with his brother's.

The near-albino smirked and closed his eyes again, snuggling back against the newest edition to their little family and tugging the sheets further up his bare body.

Grimmjow hooked his free arm around the Caster and pulled him close, a smile on his lips as he closed his eyes again.

"I could get used to this." A quiet purr rumbled in his chest, making the two human's laugh softly before being pulled back into a comfortable slumber.

••••••

With a soft grunt, Renji pulled himself up into the saddle of his horse. The beast angled it's ears backward to listen to him, but otherwise stood still and easily excepted his extra weight as the red head swung his leg over and grabbed up the reins.

"You really should come with me, I'm sure they would enjoy a visit from you too." He said, looking down to the woman standing beside his horse.

Rukia looked up at him; a small, forced smile covering her features. She somehow doubted that either of the twins would really wish to see her, and she held no desire to see Shirosaki or the blue haired creature that was surely still there, but she wouldn't tell Renji that.

"I promised Byakuya that I would visit, he still wants to finish teaching me proper sword technique." She said, the hints of the first genuine smile she'd shown in days lifting the corners of her mouth.

A wide smile bloomed across Renji's features. The man was happy that she seemed to be in a little better mood then the previous few days. It had been a while since she had visited her brother and his small family, maybe it would do her some good.

"Alright, then. I'll be back later tonight probably." The red head said, clicking his tongue and setting the horse in motion.

Rukia watched his retreating form and waved, the smile on her face becoming a delighted smirk. The mid-day sun, dulled somewhat from clouds, glinted off her raven hair and her dark eyes seemed to sparkle and swirl.

Thunder shattered the silence a few miles away, promising stormy weather in a few hours.

••••••

Renji gave the reins a light tug, halting his horse in front of the stables Ichigo and Shiro kept their animals in. He tied the horse off to one of the posts just outside the stable, under an awning, giving it enough room to move about and graze, then headed toward the front door of the small mansion.

As he approached the front stair case, the lilting, watery laughter of Shiro met his ears. The sound made a smile crease Renji's features and he turned around, heading back in the direction he had come. Rounding the back of the house, the pale twin's laughter met his ears again and he watched as Shiro doubled over at the waist, laughing so hard he was nearly shaking.

Renji snorted and headed over to join the man, still trying to figure out what was so funny.

Ichigo came into view, standing further away from Renji than Shiro was. A set of elaborate, heavy robes were folded on the ground next him. Renji recognized them as being the one's Ichigo had found several years ago, when he and Shiro had first decided to start living in the building they now called home. The Caster's torso was bare, a pair of old jeans slung low around his waist. His hands were on his hips and a small smile that desperately wanted to morph into laughter sat on his lips.

As the red head watched, something flew out from the tree line, aimed at Shiro's head. The near-albino ducked out of the way, his lilting laughter erupting anew as the object clunked off the side of the stone wall behind him and bounced to the ground, rolling to a stop only a few feet away.

Growling drew Renji's attention back to the tree line, where a large, dark figure was emerging from the wilting undergrowth.

"It's not fuckin' funny" The werepanther growled. Sending the pale human a glare that could freeze hell. He grunted, discomfort and something else flashing across his features as a slight tremble racked through his muscles.

"Oh, hey" They cat added after the small spasm was over, nodding his head toward Renji.

Shiro and Ichigo turned around simultaneously to see who he was talking to.

"Hey, Red!" Shiro called, his tone light and happy. "Nice a ya ta visit! Bring the midget with ya?"

"Hey guys, no she went to visit her brother." Renji greeted back, stopping at Shiro's side and giving a curious, slightly uneasy look to the werepanther still standing a few meters away from the Caster.

Ichigo waved to Renji, then directed his attention back to the panther in front of him.

The werecat's tail twitched and jerked in irritated movements as he shook his head a bit, clearing the slight fog the magic had caused. He cautiously took another step forward before halting and refusing to take another step. His expressive blue eyes told Ichigo all he needed to know, but he asked anyway.

"Better or worse?" The Caster asked, doing a valiant job at hiding his amused smile.

"Ow! Fuck, worse!" The panther growled at him, his blue eyes widening before narrowing on the Caster's form. "Are you trying to kill me now?"

Ichigo couldn't help his chuckle as he lowered his head and waved his hand in the air in a dismissing motion. "I thought you were a big, tough deidad?"

The werepanther growled and bared white, curved fangs at the mocking Caster.

"What's going on?" Renji asked Shiro, his cinnamon colored eyes wide and locked onto the seemingly angry werepanther's large and intimidating form.

"King's tryin' a modify the barrier so Grimm can get through like that instead a changin'." The pale twin said through his mirth, a wide grin still firmly in place on his face. "S'not workin' well at the moment"

Renji snorted, a small smile taking over his features as well. It was good to see the twins so happy and the red head was starting to think that the two men befriending the werepanther was good for them. The guy was a little scary, but didn't seem too bad and Renji was willing to give him a chance.

"Yeah, you keep laughing, human." Grimmjow growled, crouching a bit and pinning his ears back as he looked toward Shiro and Renji. That was the second time he had the misfortune of getting his ass thrown to the ground and he was really getting sick of being the Caster's guinea pig. Even if the man didn't really know what he was doing yet, he was powerful and the magic he harnessed dealt a fair amount of pain.

"Ok, ok. Let me try again" Ichigo said, pulling the cat's attention back to him as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A soft chanting left his lips and the air around the barrier crackled with power.

Grimmjow stood back up and took a wary step back, eyeing the now noticeable magic that flowed around the invisible defense system. After a moment, the Caster let out another deep breath and the air settled into a deceptive peaceful calm once again. Grimmjow's feline eyes rested back on the Caster.

"Ok, see how that feels" Ichigo said, almost feeling bad for making the cat test the barrier for him. Unfortunately, he had no other way of knowing if what he was doing to it was working. He could only guess and do what felt right, then Grimmjow would have to tell him if it worked or not.

Renji and Shiro watched as the werepanther took a deep breath, a slight trepidation flashing through his eyes. The feline extended his arm, his breath held as he took a step forward, body tensed in anticipation of what was to come.

His hand brushed against the magical seal, lightening like streaks shot outward from the spot he touched and traveled up his arm. Gritting his teeth, the werepanther snatched his hand back with a hiss and slowly released his held breath.

"Better" He ground out through clenched teeth, shaking his tingling limb a bit and taking another step away from the barrier.

"How much better?" Ichigo asked.

"Could ya have pushed through if ya tried?" Shiro asked, nearly at the same time as he walked over to join King, Renji in tow.

The twins glanced at each other, then both turned to Grimmjow with expectant looks. The werecat looked from one man to the other before speaking.

"No. It's still repelling me..." He said in answer. "Just not quite as...forcefully" He shivered and curled his lip, then mumbled something about humans and their magic, making the two brothers laugh again. Even Renji cracked a grin at the panther's plight.

The werepanther gave an indignant huff, then started relinquishing his resurrection. Silky fur started to pull back, leaving smooth, golden skin in it's wake. He closed his eyes for a moment, reopening them to reveal the rounded pupils associated with humans, rather than the vertical slit they held in his werecat form.

"Aww, kitty ain't havin' fun anymore." Shiro said, pretending to pout but his smirk wouldn't leave his face no matter how hard he tried.

Grimmjow, now standing in front of them looking like a human, sneered and stretch muscled arms above his head, rising to his toes with a soft, appreciative groan.

Shiro bent to retrieve a pair of loose shorts they had been lending to Grimmjow and tossed them to the panther turned man. The balled up fabric hit his stretched abdomen and fell to the ground at his feet, unnoticed.

Grimmjow slowly dropped his arms back to his sides, head tilted up slightly as he stayed balanced on his toes, testing the scents riding the slight breeze. His muscles tensed and a low, rumbling growl vibrated the very air around him. He took a step back, away from the barrier and started shifting back into his resurrection as he continued to test the air.

In front of him, the three humans each frowned and watched as the man's heavily muscled body veered into the lean, agile bodied killer he truly was. Black fur shimmered blueish in the feeble sun light, muscle rippling below the soft coat as he stretched back to his full height and bared his curved, feline fangs. Pointed ears flicked about slightly, listening to sounds the humans would have no chance of picking up.

Shiro's hand instinctively reached for his favored gun and his inverted eyes narrowed as he looked toward King. Ichigo met his gaze, before flicking his vision over Renji and back to the werepanther on the other side of the barrier.

"What is it?" The Caster asked almost cautiously, letting his vision wander the tree line behind the cat.

"Wolves" Grimmjow said, his deep voice rumbling to them like the thunder that broke the still air in the distance.

"Are they headed this way?" Renji spoke up, hoping they weren't but figuring they wouldn't be that lucky.

"Not sure." The cat said, still distracted as he continued listening and testing the air; keeping track of where the mutts were headed. "Coming this way at the moment"

With that, the werepanther dropped off his toes and a few long strides brought him to the forest line before anyone could react.

"Wait!" Shiro's watery voice called after him, halting Grimmjow in his tracks. The cat turned and cocked his head to the side, giving the pale man a curious look.

"Ya stay here, King, I'm ganna go wit him" Shiro said, taking off after the cat before Ichigo could protest.

Grimmjow looked down at the man, giving him a slightly incredulous look.

"What?" Shiro asked, looking up at the taller feline, flinching slightly when thunder clapped loud over head. "Can't let ya have all the fun." He said, a wide grin stretching across his face.

The werepanther snorted, something of a grin stretching across his feline features as well. He looked back toward the Caster and red head.

Seeing the look on Renji's face, Ichigo chuckled. "Go ahead, I'll stay and play with the barrier and maybe Grimm will be able to walk right in" He said, giving Renji a light push toward his twin and the werepanther.

Renji looked up at the panther, then back to Ichigo. He took a steadying breath and swallowed before nodding and turning back to Shiro and Grimmjow.

The three set off into the forest, the werecat taking lead, as silent as a shadow, so that he could tell them where the wolves were headed. Lightening flashed through the sky, the clouds finally breaking open to shower the surrounding area in a light drizzle. He angled their direction slightly toward the North and the three moved in a light jog, a pace that the humans would be able to match with a fair amount of ease. After a few minutes, Grimmjow stopped to retest the air and shake the water drops from his coat, adjusting their course again.

"Hey" Renji whispered to the pale twin stalking through the forest beside him. "Aren't we headed toward the village now?"

The near-albino looked over at him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Yeah, I think we are." He scrunched his brow a bit, then turned back to face the werepanther, almost impossible to see in the shadowed forest even with his size.

The cat had froze, his muscled body tense and his ears perked forward. The water from the rain dripped from his coat in small streams, unnoticed by the focused werepanther. He crouched down and stalked forward on silent, padded feet through the forest.

"What ya hearin'?" Shiro asked, his voice barely above a whisper but easily carried to the creature's sensitive ears.

"Humans" was all Grimmjow said as he continued to stalk forward, keeping his senses tuned outward for anymore signs of the werewolves. He could smell them, could tell they were close by, but they seemed to be holding still and not running through the trees any longer.

A faint scream, muffled by the rain and thunder, reached the two men's ears.

"It would seem the wolves found their target" Grimmjow rumbled, loping off in the direction of the commotion. He could hear much more than the what the humans could and knew the wolves had been spotted and were setting their attack into motion.

"Shit" Shiro cursed, taking off in a sprint after the werecat, Renji on his heels. "Grimm, you go ahead and we'll catch up" He half yelled to the cat still trotting only a few meters ahead of them.

Grimmjow nodded and lengthened his stride, easily out pacing the two men following his trail. He covered the ground that lay between him and the wolves in a matter of seconds and paused at the tree line just as a loud shot echoed from the surrounding trees and buildings. The werepanther instinctively flinched at the noise, but an angry snarl snapped his attention back to the creatures in the clearing.

The wolves had attacked a farm on the very edge of town. He counted four. None of them were originals, most likely strays looking for trouble or an easy kill. Three of the wolves were nearly his size, not out weighing him by more than a hundred pounds; rather small for werewolves. The fourth wolf, however was much larger and probably the leader of the little troop.

An older man stood several meters away, shot gun in hand and leveled at a crouching wolf; one of the smaller ones. The beast bled from a wound to it's chest, but the bullet hadn't been silver and would do very little permanent damage, if any at all. The angered mutt snarled and bared fangs at the human while a small figure cried and wiggled in it's grasp.

Grimmjow could see blood covering most of the child's clothes, but it sill lived enough to struggle and fight back. The little girl cried out for her mother and Grimmjow huffed a sigh, knowing that he would try to save the human child before he even realized he was launching himself toward the wolf crouching over her.

He landed on top of the hunched over wolf, wrapping powerful jaws around the back of it's thick neck and using his claws to rake and tear at the beast.

A surprised yelping snarl left the mongrels throat before it crashed to the ground under the werepanther's weight and strength, barely missing the child in the process. Struggling to get back to it's feet, the wolf rolled about and grasped at it's feline attacker. Managing to get a clawed hand around one of Grimmjow's back legs, the wolf heaved and dislodged his slightly smaller form, throwing the cat to the ground.

The werepanther landed on his feet, claws digging into the mud for purchase, and prepared to spring back at the wolf. A pathetic whimpering pulled his attention to the ground at his feet and stayed his attack. The human child cried and looked up at him, her blond hair matted to her skull and sticky with blood.

Grimmjow let a low rumbling vibrate his chest as he crouched, eyeing the wolves that circled about the forest edge nervously. He quickly assessed the child's injuries. Wolf claws had dug deep furrows through her flesh and would leave angry scars but there didn't appear to be any bite wounds. The girl may have gotten lucky. At any rate, if she did turn, the transformation would destroy her small body and she would die before she became a threat.

The werepanther grabbed the back of the girl's shirt and stood back up, still watching the wolves as he took a few steps back and toward the adult humans. The sound of the shotgun being reloaded reached his ears, but he was hardly worried. The human didn't have silver and bullet would be more annoying than painful. He extended his arm, holding the child toward whom he assumed to be her parents.

The older man held a crying woman back as she struggled to free herself from his grasp and run to gather her child from the monster holding the small girl. The toddler cried out for her mother again, tears streaming down her face to rinse rivulets through the blood.

Grimmjow growled, watching as the larger wolf took a bold step toward him, it's teeth bared and ears back. He bared his own fangs back at the mutt, a hiss rising from his throat.

"Take her!" The feline practically yelled at the humans, unwilling to take his eyes off the wolves as he held the child out at arms length toward the adults.

The woman gasped at his voice but finally broke free from the man's surprise slackened grasp and ran to her child. She snatched the girl close to her, looking up at the werecat that had saved her baby girl with wide eyes.

"T...Thank you...thank you..." The woman chanted in a whispered tone as she backed away, the child clinging to her.

As soon as the woman was back with the male human, Grimmjow sprang forward, a vicious snarl on his lips. He locked the beast in close combat, forcing it to grapple with him. The struggling creatures tumbled to the ground; a mass of angry snarling and sharp teeth.

The wolf managed to sink it's claws into the muscle of his abdomen, but Grimmjow leapt off it before any real damage could be done. He could tell the creature was only gauging his strength and prowess at this point, the next attack would most likely come from one of the smaller beasts. He took a few steps backward, keeping himself between the human family and the werewolves.

True to his prediction, one of the smaller mutts lunged at him from the left. Grimmjow pivoted and caught the beast, staggering back as it's weight crashed into him, but he stayed on his feet. He drove forward with powerful legs and knocked the beast backward, landing to straddle it. The mutt's hand shot up to dig at his chest and throat in a pathetic attempt to ward him off. Grimmjow let a slight grin curl his lips at the resounding snap of bone accompanied by the mutt's yelp as he yanked it's arm out of his way.

Fear flashed in it's yellow eyes and by the time a second wolf had decided to aid it's comrade, the mutt lay in a pool of it's own blood and bile, gurgling as it tried to force air through it's crushed trachea.

That second wolf, not smart enough or too loyal to flee, slammed into Grimmjow with all the force it could and let it's momentum carry it and the cat to the ground. The mongrel latched onto one of Grimmjow's arms, where he had throne it up to block the beast from his throat as he slammed into the muddy earth.

He grunted and hissed as he struggled under the weight of the creature and pulled himself back to his feet, chest heaving from the effort combined with the exertion of his previous kill. The wolf stubbornly held on as it's larger leader stalked in, circling around behind Grimmjow.

The werepanther caught sight of it and blue eyes widened as he renewed his efforts to free himself from the smaller wolf. He sank his fangs into the beast's snout, violently shaking his head and pulling pained whimpers and yelps from the beast. He heard the human woman scream something in his direction just as the weight of the larger wolf drove him and smaller wolf to the ground.

The force of the crash dislodged his hold on the smaller wolf and he creature released his arm and struggled to get out from under the weight to the panther and it's larger companion.

Cruel fangs sank into the muscle of his shoulder blade, pulling a strained hiss from Grimmjow as he struggled to flip himself over to at least face the large beast. The rain soaked dirt covered the battling creatures in mud as the tumbled and fought.

An unbroken growl still leaving his throat, Grimmjow managed to reach over his head far enough to drag hooked claws up the side of the beast's thick neck and jaw.

It yelped and released it's hold, giving the werepanther the time he needed to flip over. He sank his own teeth into the beast's throat, still growling his fury, and began tugging backward.

The monster grabbed at his face and shoulders, anything to hold the feline from ripping his throat out. Panic lit it's yellow eyes and a fearful, yet aggressive snarl curled it's lips.

Another shot rang through the air, drowning out Grimmjow's growling and ceasing the wolf's whimpered yelps. The smell of silver wafted through the clearing, seemingly freezing time for a moment. A set of crystalline blue eyes and two sets of yellow orbs snapped to the tree line where Shiro stood, gun still swinging to level toward the other wolf left standing that wasn't grappling with Grimmjow. The beast he had shot stumbled forward another step before toppling to the ground, dead before it could even begin to feel the silver eat at it's flesh.

Renji ran around the battling monsters, sliding to a halt in front of the small family and checking the state of their wounds and making sure everyone was ok. He backed them toward their home and kept them out of the way.

Grimmjow continued his battle, hissing as jagged claws tore at the flesh of his chest. A second shot rang out, followed by a screeching whimper and a thump as the last of the smaller wolves fell to the ground, writhing in pain before it finally died.

Using the temporary distraction to his advantage, Grimmjow swiped his hooked claws in a horizontal slash across the mutt's middle. Vicious talons sliced through muscle and bit into the bone of the beast's rib cage.

With an enraged snarl, the large wolf finally dislodged the cat and threw Grimmjow to the ground. The werepanther landed heavily with a grunt, but was back on his feet as the beast lunged toward him again.

A third shot shattered the air, the sound almost lost in the booming thunder. Grimmjow flinched at the sound and scent of silver as the bullet ripped through the wolf's chest, only a few feet in front of him. The mongrel snarled, a high pitched, screaming yelp tearing from it's throat as it continued to struggle toward the cat. It dropped dead at Grimmjow's feet.

The werepanther sucked in a deep breath before stepping over the carcass and making his way toward Shiro, who was still standing near the tree line. Panting lightly, he attempted to shake some of the mud from his fur before giving up and gingerly taking inventory of his wounds.

Seeing the blood that blossomed to the surface of Grimmjow's flesh, Renji, without thinking too far into who he was approaching, hurried to the panther's side and helped check him over, much to the feline's surprise. The werepanther sank to the muddy ground, curling his legs under him to crouch and let the red head have a look at the wounds he couldn't get to on his own.

Like usual, the smaller cuts and gashes were already healing shut. The bite to the back of his shoulder, where the large wolf's fangs had sank deep into muscle stung but he was certain they would be healed by morning with the rain helping to clean the saliva away.

"Y...you're...Shirosaki?" A woman's voice hesitantly called to them. She still clutched her shivering child to her chest, the girl still whimpering and sniffing as she buried her face in her mother's dress.

Shiro didn't say a word, just stepped around the werepanther to watch the small family. Tucking his silver plated hand gun away in it's holster, he pushed a few loose strands of his damp hair away from his pale face as he regarded the woman that had spoken.

"You're that Caster's... Ichigo Kurosaki's... twin?" She asked, eyes wide with disbelief and shock. She seemed to struggle with how to phrase her question and the near-albino was just glad she hadn't asked if he was King's 'dead' twin.

Shiro nodded his head, letting his inverted eyes stray to the shot gun still held at the ready in the man's hands. Out of habit, he started to reach for the hood of his cloak before letting his hands drop to his side, realizing he wasn't wearing the concealing fabric and couldn't hide his features.

Crouched at his side, Grimmjow tensed and slowly climbed back to his feet, sensing the pale twin's growing unease at being the center of attention.

"Th...Thank you..." The woman said, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at the three of them. Her eyes widened as they landed on the striking blue of the monster that had saved her child. "Thank you...all of you..."

Shiro nodded again glanced up at Grimmjow, before turning to head back the way they had come. "That was all a the wolves?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, there were only the four" The werepanther answered, pushing Renji in front of him to follow after Shiro so that he could keep himself between them and the man still clutching his shot gun. He doubted the human male would do something like that, but he was still uncertain of the whole situation between Shiro and the rest of the town. With in inaudible sigh, Grimmjow also realized he was becoming rather protective of the two human's and their red haired friend.

••••••

Grey eyes, a match to the storm clouds outside, swirled and stared sightlessly at the far wall. He needed to come up with a solution quickly. But he didn't particularly like the few choices he had at his disposal.

Thunder boomed above, the sound reverberating down the unnaturally empty corridors of the den. He had made sure a rumor had been spread on hushed lips that today was not one to be wandering the halls.

The smaller figure curled at his side shifted in her sleep, a slight uneasy whimper made the she-wolf truly seem her young age.

Starrk carefully shifted his larger body to curl protectively around the form of Lilynette, letting his heat and strength reassure her as his younger sibling slept on.

Closer to the door, the ever present Nnoitra turned his head slightly to regard his Alpha. His lone eye shined in the dark, telling Starrk the big male would follow his lead, wherever that lead may end up.

Taking another moment to contemplate, he curled his tail around his dear sister and let out a quiet breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He looked up at the towering wolf in his chambers. His grey eyes steeled with resolve and Starrk nodded his head.

Nnoitra uncrossed his lanky arms and pushed away from the wall, silently leaving the room without a word exchanged between them.

Starrk sighed and closed his eyes, attempting to catch a little more sleep before things got ugly.

••••••

Ichigo fidgeted with the hem of the old cloak like robes he had thrown on when the rain finally started to fall. Grimmjow had spied them hanging at the back of the Caster and Shiro's wardrobe and had tentatively pulled them from the rack like they may catch fire.

Confused, Ichigo had confessed to the man that he and Shiro had found them in the basement several years ago, but he didn't know what they were for. They looked like they used to be important, but no one had been able to tell them what the robes had signified.

An odd mix of trepidation and something like unease had swirled through vivid blue before the feline had finally told him they were the robes Casters had worn when magic had still been a dominant art form and not feared and shunned by the human race. The feline had then quickly shoved the fabric at Ichigo, seemingly not wanting to hold the material any longer.

Seeing the feline's obvious unease, the Caster had started to place the articles back in the wardrobe, but Grimmjow had stopped him, saying they were befitting of his abilities and power and that he should be proud to wear them.

Ichigo shivered and leaned back against the stone wall of their home, pulling the robes closer about him as lightening split the sky. He worried at his bottom lip a bit, hoping his brother, Renji and Grimmjow were alright.

He had heard gunfire echo from the direction of the village. The Caster may not have been much of a weapons expert, but he knew the difference between the sounds of Shiro's guns and he knew that the first shot that had split the air had been made by something of a larger caliber. The next three shots that had followed a few minutes later had been in rapid succession and Ichigo had recognized them as his brother's. But that had been nearly a half hour ago.

The orange haired man jumped at the sound of deep laughter. Shiro's pale form pushed through the tree line, looking back over his shoulder as Renji and Grimmjow followed him. A smirk stretched across his face as he addressed the red head.

"Tha's why ya don't walk next ta 'im. Ain't ya ever owned a dog er somethin'?" Shiro asked, his tone light hearted.

Grimmjow's laughter died and his own smirk melted away as he glared at the albino.

"I'm not a mutt." He grumbled, releasing his resurrection and stretching his now human body a bit.

"He could have at least warned me before he shook the water from his fur." Renji answered the pale twin, not noticing the werepanther's shift in moods as he wiped the water out of his face.

The werepanther snarled indignantly at being compared to a dog, his lip curling to show still overly sharp teeth. He stepped over the barrier and crossed the short expanse of grass toward the Caster. His smirk returned to pull at his lips as Ichigo's chocolaty eyes drank in the sight of his naked form.

"So, uh, how did the hunt go?" Ichigo asked, dragging his eyes away from the bluenette and glancing at his brother and Renji before he turned and headed around the building to get out of the rain. He was cold and he had been able to stay mostly dry, the others were soaked through and Grimmjow was naked. He could just imagine having to put of with his brother and the werepanther if the two got sick. He absently wondered if it was even possible for the once-deidad to catch a cold.

"I'd say it went ok" Shiro's watery tenure called out from behind him.

Ichigo nodded slightly, glancing to the taller bluenette walking by his side. He noted a few, half healed gashes, though the rain had washed any blood away.

"So you guys found the wolves, I take it?" He asked, opening the door to their home. He tried not to stare as he held it for the werepanther turned man.

"Yeah we did. Grimm had already taken care a one of 'em and was workin' on the second when Red and I got there." Shiro answered, stepping inside and kicking his muddy boots off at the door. Ichigo's robes were hanging from a peg behind the door, his shoes sitting neatly underneath.

He and Renji followed the trail of wet foot prints to the sitting room, where the Caster was in the process of lighting the fire place and the big bluenette was standing in the middle of the floor watching him. Shiro snorted knowingly as he watched Grimmjow's eyes travel the curve of King's bared shoulders and back. Unnoticed by the distracted man, water still dripped from the werepanther's body to create a small pool at his feet.

Shiro smirked and walked past them toward the kitchen to set a tea pot on the stove so he could make them something hot to drink.

"Thought cats didn't like water" Renji said quietly, easing past the man and keeping his eyes directed ahead, following the albino.

Grimmjow's blue eyes snapped to his form, surprised that the red head addressed him; and in a joking manner at that. Shiro's lilting laughter flowed over them from the kitchen and the feline could only smirk before answering Renji.

"House cats don't like water. Do I look like a house cat?" He purred. His smirk grew into a grin when the red head looked over at him, his cinnamon colored eyes staying trained on his face.

Renji hurried past the man, stopping in the door way to the kitchen.

"A kitty's a kitty" He called over his shoulder, surprising even himself at how easy he was finding it to joke and talk to the man like he wasn't the were-creature he truly was.

The feline's resounding snarl had both twins and the red head clutching their stomachs with mirth. Grimmjow sighed, but let a smirk cross his features just the same and shrugged light heartedly.

Shiro and Renji disappeared into the kitchen once again. The sounds of dishes clanking and being pulled from shelves was muffled as the door swung closed.

Ichigo stood and turned to face the bluenette, a flame licking at the dry wood behind the grate of the fire place. He closed the few strides that would bring him directly in front of the man and looked up at him.

"Aren't you cold?" The orange haired male asked, his hands tentatively raising to press flat against the planes of Grimmjow's muscled abdomen.

The feline hummed at the soft touch, bring his own hands to cover the Caster's. He lowered his face, brushing his full lips against Ichigo's in the slightest ghosting of a touch.

"Freezing..." He said, his voice dropping to a silky baritone that sent shivers down the smaller man's spine.

The clanking of dishes settled down and Shiro's voice carried to them through the closed door, telling Renji he would be right back. A moment later, the albino was standing next to the Caster, shamelessly staring at the naked man before them.

"Go dry off, put some clothes on fer Red's sake. Later King and I'll make it worth yer while, yeah?" Shiro raised an ashen brow and looked up at the bluenette.

Grin never leaving his face, the feline tilted his head to the side fractionally, looking both men up and down before turning around and exiting the room, headed toward the stairs without a word.

Ichigo and Shiro watched him leave the room, both appreciating the view before they joined Renji in the kitchen.

"I'd have to say he's taking you up on that offer." Ichigo chuckled as they walked through the swinging door, shaking his head a bit. A second shiver racked his spine; this time at the prospect of what his pale copy had promised the feline.

Renji gave them a curious look as he continued to ready the tea.

"I bribed the kitty to put some clothes on fer ya" Shiro told him, laughing at the appreciative look the red head threw his way.

"Speaking of clothes." Ichigo said, walking over and began peeling his twin's soaked shirt from his torso. Shiro lifted his arms and helped wiggle out of the clingy fabric, shivering when the cool air met his damp skin. "You two should change and dry off too. I'm sure we have something you can borrow until your clothes are dry, Renji."

"Good idea, King" Shiro gave his copy a smile, then turned and headed toward their room, motioning for Renji to follow.

••••••

Panting to catch much needed oxygen, black lips pulled away from red tinted, cruel fangs. Ears pinned back in an obvious show of fury, Nnoitra lunged after the smaller male, snapping his jaws closed around air as the wolf turned heel and fled further out into the forest.

Enraged snarling followed by a yelp of pain rang through the damp trees, the echos drowned out by the pattering of rain. Taking in deep lungfuls of air, Nnoitra took off in the direction of his Alpha's snarling.

Starrk stood in a pool of bloodied rain water, watching as a stout, grey wolf attempted to drag it's self away. His chest heaved and each outward breath carried a low, snarling growl as his nostrils flared.

Nnoitra stalked past his leader, a cruel smile on his lips, as he headed to finish off the traitorous male.

A hand landed on his shoulder, staying his attack. Nnoitra spun around, pinning Starrk with his good eye. The Alpha simply shook his head, sucking in a deep lungful as he too attempted to catch his lost breath.

Nnoitra had set their impromptu plan into motion flawlessly, as expected. With the help of a few other loyal wolves, Starrk and his second had ousted the traitorous wolf that had challenged his standing as leader. They had managed to weed out several of the male's followers as well, killing many of them before the rest fled out into the vast forest.

"You should kill him before he becomes a problem later." Nnoitra grumbled but didn't go against his leader's silent command. They watched the elder wolf retreat; bruised, bloody and beaten. A few of the smaller wolves pitifully attempted to follow, but most succumbed to their wounds and would lay where they fell until the elements or another predator finished them off.

The Alpha dropped to sit on the wet ground. Already soaked through from the bitter rain and shed blood, he hardly noticed the puddle he sat in. Shaking some of the water from his fur, Nnoitra wearily sank to the ground next to him.

The battle had lasted a long time and had been fought mostly on the run. It had been fast paced and brutal, leaving little room for rest or regrouping. Starrk hated that he had to take things this far and risk ripping his Pack in half, but had little time and few options, so he had done the most logical thing. He had gotten rid of the wolf that had challenged his leadership, and proved that he would not tolerate insubordination from any of the Pack members. He had made an example out of the challenging wolf and his followers, even going as far as killing one of them in cold blood before it had managed to get out the den.

"The traitor will likely not last long." A cool, emotionless voice sounded from behind Nnoitra and Starrk. The smaller wolf crouched down beside his leader and second, his cold gaze scanning the desolate, wilting underbrush and trees for any signs of threat. "He is wounded quite badly, and also headed toward Pantera territory."

Starrk nodded his agreement and slowly climbed back to his feet. There would ultimately be more blood shed through out the Pack, but he would handle it as it came.

••••••

Eyes shut, head tilted back to lean against the high back of the chair, Grimmjow sat cross legged and focused on the various minor wounds he had received from the earlier fight. His body was healing at an incredible rate, faster than it had and a very long time and he was beginning to think it had something to do with being around humans again. He knew the Caster and Shiro didn't worship him as a deidad though, and so he was unsure why they would effect him this way, but he wasn't about to complain.

He let out a deep, even breath and tuned out the conversation that the humans were carrying and forced his mind further into a meditative state.

Redirecting his thoughts back to the task at hand, the werecat was pleased to find that the only mark he had left from the brief fight was the bite wound to the back of his shoulder blade. Bite wounds always had been worse than claw wounds. The punctures seemed to be closing fairly quick none the less, and Grimmjow was unworried about them.

A slight grin quirked the corners of his lips as a few specific words seeped through his self imposed trance to taint his thoughts with images of Shiro and Ichigo fulfilling their promise to him. He had behaved himself, had thrown on a pair of shorts like the pale human had bade him.

Standing from his seat in a chair opposite the blue haired man, Renji stood and looked over at the twin's to his left. "I should probably get going before it gets too dark." He said quietly, placing his cup on the small table sitting next to his chair.

Ichigo and Shiro stood up as well. A smile tilted Ichigo's lips as he agreed with the red head and went to grab the man's clothes from where they had hung them to dry.

Shiro eyed the bluenette, who had yet to move, as he walked past him, following King and Renji to the front door. He wondered if the man had honestly fallen asleep, he had been curled up in the same position and quiet for quite a while now. Grudgingly, the near-albino had to admit the bluenette was kind of cute all curled up.

"Hopefully the rain holds off on your way home." Ichigo said, opening the door for his red headed friend.

"Eh, I hope so too, but a little rain wont hurt me" Renji said with a smile. "It was good seeing you guys again"

"Yer welcome over any time, Red." Shiro chimed in, waving as the man stepped out the door and began descending the marble stairs to the still wet grass.

"Thanks, same goes to you guys. If you happen to come to town, stop over" The red head called, laughing as he untethered his horse and mounted up.

"Might have to, see you later, Renji!" Ichigo called back from the entry way as he and his twin watched the man guide his horse to the dirt path that lead to the village.

Grimmjow pulled himself out of his half conscious state when he heard the sounds of the front door latching shut. He stretched from his curled position before settling back down and propping his elbow on the arm of the chair. Placing his chin on his fist, he let a suggestive grin take over his features and waited for the his two humans to reenter the room.

The sound of foot steps and whispered words announced the humans to be approaching before Shiro peeked around the door way to look at him.

"Nah, told ya he'd be awake" The pale man said as he stepped into the room, eyes never leaving Grimmjow and grin spreading across his face.

"Good" Ichigo walked into the room behind his brother. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been looking forward to giving the feline his reward at least a little. If the lecherous smiles on the faces of the other two in the room were anything to go by, both his twin and Grimmjow were anticipating it as well.

Before he could think much into it, pale lips were covering his own in a heated kiss full of tongue and nipping teeth. The Caster was pushed up against the wall beside the arching door way he had just walked through. Pale fingers found purchase in tangerine locks, pulling his head back while Shiro moved to lick up the side of his exposed neck. The man's other hand slowly ran up the lightly toned planes of Ichigo's abdomen, exploring smooth skin.

Ichigo fisted his hands in his copy's shirt, fighting to hold back the small sounds that tried to work their way up his throat as Shiro continued to nip and tease him in all the best of ways. A strong arm worked it's way around his middle, pulling him close to the solid body of his brother.

Hand dipping inside of King's jeans, Shiro let his fingers tease across the seem of perfect cheeks before dipping a single finger in to tease at Ichigo's inviting entrance. The hands fisted in his shirt flattened against his chest and a delicious whimper escaped the Caster's lips.

Grimmjow hummed in appreciation of the display before him, enjoying as the twins ravaged each other. He finally stood from his perch on the chair, sneering a bit when the fabric of the shorts the humans made him wear constrained his already prominent erection. The feline stepped up behind the pale twin, looking over the smaller man's shoulder to Ichigo, who was facing him.

The Caster cried out as the teasing finger finally pushed through tight muscle. His head fell back against the wall behind him, his heavy lidded eyes were dark and his face flushed with arousal.

The werecat flicked his tongue over full lips at the sight. He pulled at the hem of Shiro's shirt, pulling the fabric up until the man was forced to lift his arms so Grimmjow could remove the article.

Ichigo whimpered at the loss of contact, but as soon as Shiro's hands were free again, he wasted no time in delving two fingers into King's entrance. The Caster gasped, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while he adjusted to the intrusion. After a moment, he pushed back against the fingers, a moan falling from parted lips.

Shiro leaned forward, attacking King's exposed neck with his hot mouth as Ichigo continued to moan and grab at his arms and chest. Grimmjow's big hands ran down his back, his nails barely scraping at the skin. Sharp teeth bit at the back of his neck before a hot, wet tongue was soothing the abused area.

"Fuck..." Shiro panted, pressing his body against the muscled one behind him. Grimmjow's heavy cock pressed against him and the werepanther's hands instantly went to front of his jeans, tugging at the button as a small growl rumbled in the man's chest.

Shiro scissored his fingers, further stretching the Caster. Ichigo rewarded him with low, drawn out moan. His hands trailed down his copy's toned chest and torso to hover over Grimmjow's, where the feline was still working at the button. Ichigo helped the man with his twin's pants before dipping his hand inside and freeing Shiro's aching member.

"King..." Shiro groaned as skilled fingers teasingly ran over his length. "Take yer pants off..."

Ichigo complied, yanking his own jeans open with quick, jerky movements, moaning as fingers continued to push in and out of him. He let the fabric fall to the floor, quickly kicking them out of the way as Shiro started to turn him around.

"B...bedroom...?" Ichigo panted out. A whimper escaped him as Shiro removed his fingers, but in the next instant he was being pushed out into the hall way, naked and hard.

Ichigo scrambled down the hall, Shiro's hands roaming over his body as he made his way to the stairs. As Ichigo started to ascend the staircase, Shiro spun around. Reaching up to fist his fingers in a wild blue mane, he pulled Grimmjow down and locked their lips together. The panther bit at his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth before plundering Shiro's mouth with his tongue. He was pushed backward until he tripped over the bottom step and fell to sit on the stairs. Grimmjow followed to hover over top of him, ravaging his mouth, the man's hard arousal grinding into Shiro's own.

Ichigo stopped, only a few steps above the other two men, and turned to watch the spectacle his twin and the bluenette made. There was nothing soft between the two, not like when Ichigo was involved. Ichigo watched as his twin pushed the cloth of Grimmjow's shorts down and over the man's hips and thighs and revealed his heavy cock.

With a slight whimper, wanting to feel and taste the men behind him, Ichigo descended the few steps between them and ran his hands over his twin's quivering abdomen, his fingers teasing at pert nipples.

Shiro gasped slightly at the unexpected contact, breaking this kiss he shared with the feline. The albino spun about, pinning Ichigo to the staircase. His mind not able to focus on anything other than his need and want, Shiro grabbed King by the hips and flipped him over so that he was on his knees a couple steps above him.

Grimmjow pulled the shorts the rest of the way off as he watched Shiro enter his copy. The Caster threw his head back and cried out in pleasure and pain. The albino slowly rocked forward, leaning to kiss the lightly tanned expanse of skin before him until he was fully seated.

"Sh...Shiro–" Ichigo panted, his voice breathy and moaning.

Shiro pulled out just as slowly before snapping his hips forward, groaning as tight heat enveloped his throbbing member. Without warning, his jeans were being tugged over the curve of his ass to settle around his knees as he continued to thrust into Ichigo.

Grimmjow leaned forward, wasting no time in licking the seem of Shiro's pale cheeks. The albino gasped and paused in his thrusting for a moment before picking up his slow, teasing pace again. The Caster's moans went straight to his dick and the werepanther thrust his tongue forward into Shiro's entrance, enjoying the choked moan that erupted from the pale man.

His patience beginning to fail him, the feline scooted back and replaced his tongue with a finger, sinking it deep in one, fluid motion as Shiro rocked back against it and out of the Caster.

Shiro thrust back into his copy, a deep moan vibrated in his chest as tight heat surrounded him again. He pulled back out, impaling himself of the feline's finger. A second was quickly added and Shiro cursed at the combined pleasure of heat hugging his cock and the fingers impaling him.

A deep, aroused growl vibrated in Grimmjow's throat and the last of his control snapped. He quickly removed his fingers and lined up, waiting until Shiro pulled out and was thrusting forward again. He matched the pale man's pace, seating himself at the same time the near-albino sheathed himself in the Caster.

Twin moans erupted from the two men below him, making his already painfully hard cock throb with want. Grimmjow grasped pale hips in a bruising hold and pulled out, snapping hips forward and quickly finding a brutal pace that forced Shiro to match it.

The Caster cried out, hands clawing at the stairs he was leaning on, as he was ruthlessly pounded into. Light flashed across his vision and the heat pooling in his belly began to feel like it was bubbling as a particularly sensitive area was found.

"Th...There... Shirooo–" He moaned out, doing his best to meet the man's brutal pace.

"Fuck...King..." The pale twin groaned. "Yer so...tighhnn" His words died, becoming a moan as Grimmjow pounded into him, grunting and moaning his own pleasure in pale man's ear.

The combined pleasure quickly consumed the albino and he could feel his release hurtling toward him. "Gr...Grimmnn...Harder..." His watery, distorted voice provoked the feline behind him.

Grimmjow gladly complied, growling as he sped up his pace and thrust harder into the tight head hugging his cock.

Both men below him moaned and panted at the added speed. The tight heat he was burying himself in constricted around his cock and Grimmjow let out a deep groan of his own as he continued to thrust. He released his bruising grip on Shiro's lean hips and wrapped one arm around to begin stroking the Caster's neglected member.

The man cried out, pushing back against his twin before thrusting forward into the hand stroking him. With a strangled sound of pleasure, his release covered Grimmjow's hand and the steps below him in his seed. Above him, Shiro cursed and continued thrusting a few more times before he quickly followed with his own orgasm.

The werepanther followed Shiro at nearly the same time, grunting as his own release was pulled from him by constricting heat.

Panting lightly, Grimmjow slowly pulled out and sank to a sitting position, off his knees with his back against the railing of the stairway. He watched as Shiro's arms shook slightly and he pulled the albino into his lap before the man could collapse on top of the Caster, who had given up on getting up altogether and was laying on the steps.

The pale twin snorted a bit, a smirk creasing his features as he buried his face in the man's neck and wrapped an arm around his abdomen. He gently rubbed at King's back with his other, before stifling a yawn.

"Bedroom, yeah?" He asked quietly, starting to raise out of the panther's lap.

Ichigo nodded his agreement and climbed to his feet, using the railing to begin pulling himself up the stairs. Grimmjow also stood, watching the way the pale man in front of him still shook with the strain his body had undergone.

Stepping up to stand right behind him, the feline scooped Shiro into his arms, ignoring the man's surprised and rather unmanly squeak. He quickly silenced the near-albino's protests with a kiss, then walked up the rest of the stairs to join the Caster at the top.

Ichigo smiled down at them as the bluenette scooped his tired twin up. Shiro finally gave up and accepted the gesture, resting his head on the man's broad shoulder and linking his arms around his thick neck. When the werepanther made it to the top of the stairs, Ichigo linked his fingers around the bluenette's free hand and lead the way to the bedroom.

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><p><strong>AN: Sooo, what did you guys think? Shadow likes feed back, so be sure to tell me!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: well, this only took forever to write... Sorry about that, I had most of the chapter written earlier last week, but had to leave to visit family for several days. Needless to say, I didn't get much written while there.**

**Anyway. (those of you who celebrate it) how was everyone's thanksgiving? Glad to have the brake?**

**On to the chapter! Enjoy~  
><strong>

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><p>"Shiro?"<p>

"Yeah, King?" Pale brows drew together at the strained sound of his copy's voice.

"Why...Why don't you hate me?"

••••••

Panting, Starrk hovered over the body of another wolf as blood pooled below it's limp form, seeping from a dozen wounds caused by teeth and claws. Limbs quivering slightly from exertion, the Alpha male stepped around the corpse of what used to be one of his Pack members. That was the third so far today.

It had been several days since he had chased the traitorous male out of his midst and he was still working on weeding out the rest of those unworthy of his trust. He had known more blood would be shed. The Pack numbers had thinned to a lower count than what had been seen in decades. A few members had fled the den through out the past few days, slipping out once they realized what was happening and not wanting to be caught by Starrk or his chosen enforcers. Others had dared stand up to the Alpha as he purged his ranks. Those few daring wolves didn't last long.

Starrk was not weak. There was a reason he was Alpha, a reason his Pack needed reminded of. He had had enough. No longer was he going to sit by idly and watch the Pack slip through his fingers. He would put any wolf; male or female, original or not, in their place. It was up to them weather they died by his hands or walked away from the encounter. And when he was satisfied that his Pack was truly his again, he could begin rebuilding.

The werewolf Alpha made his way to the entrance of the den and stopped just past the tree line. Taking a deep breath, Starrk closed his eyes and blew out a heavy sigh as he dropped down to sit on a fallen log.

The rain had finally let off and though the air was cool, it was crisp and fresh and smelled earthy and clean. An ever so small smirk flashed briefly across his features when the wind shifted slightly, sending him the scent of his ever present shadow.

When he had asked his second to give him some alone time, he knew it would only be an illusion. The wolf would never leave his side, especially not in rough times like these, when he could actually be in danger. Nnoitra seemed to take canine loyalty to an extreme sometimes, but then, that's what made him perfect for the place as second in command.

"Nnoi" His deep baritone carried on the wind, soft and quiet but with all the command and power one would expect of a werewolf in his position. "There's another in the corridor, mind cleaning up for me?"

A quiet, growled "Tch" was his only reply, but he knew Nnoitra would get the job done. Even if all he did was get some lower ranking member to clean up the Alpha's kill, he would still make sure the body was properly disposed of one way or another.

A different wolf loyal to Starrk was looking after Lilynette while he took care of business. The young she-wolf was behaving impeccably well, much to her older sibling's surprise. Starrk couldn't help but wonder if she was plotting something, but he quickly halted that line of thinking and went back to enjoying the calm of the air around him. It may be his only chance at that for a while, Pack life was anything but calm at the moment.

"Starrk, sir"

The Alpha let out a deep, tired sigh and opened his eyes to look at the wolf standing before him. It was a she-wolf he had placed around the perimeter of the den. Her job, along with a small group of others Starrk knew to be loyal to him, was to scout the territory and keep watch for any signs of trouble.

"Yes?" Starrk asked, standing from the fallen log. So much for his moment of calm.

"The traitor has been spotted. He lives still."

"Where?" He asked the she-wolf scout.

"He's been seen nearer the villages. It seems he may be gathering strays." The scout reported, eyes loyally averted as she stood at attention before her leader.

Starrk's brows drew together in a scowl. It would appear the old male wished to take his rivalry to a new level. The Alpha turned to head back toward the den entrance, leaving the scout to be dismissed and go back to her job without a word.

"Uhh, sir..." The scout called hesitantly. She waited for the Pack leader to halt and face her before continuing. "Myself and a couple others have been trying to decide what he could be up to..."

"And?" Starrk's deep baritone came out almost as a growl.

The she-wolf straightened and her eyes widened slightly at the defensive anger radiating from her normally calm Alpha. "We could only come up with two reasons he may be gathering followers. We think he's building an army..."

Starrk's answering snarl told the scout he understood what her conclusion was. The leader turned on his heal and stormed back toward the entrance of the cave. It appeared he had been too lenient in letting the male live.

••••••

For all Ichigo had done, his beloved twin had never and would never hate him, and the Caster didn't understand. He had killed their family...their mother, father...Karin, Yuzu...he had even been the cause of Shiro's death. He hadn't understood at the time, he didn't realize what had happened. He had been blissfully ignorant of the cause and the reason.

But he knew now...had for a long time now, since they had moved out here to live away from the rest of the village. That had seemed like a life time ago, and he had hated himself for a long time too.

It was strange to think that they had only just turned twenty last week, it seemed like they were so much older than that, with all that they had been through.

"Why...Why don't you hate me?" He whispered, hardly able to force the words out as he laid his head in his twin's lap. His body shivered slightly, cold and upset, but he hardly noticed and even if he had, the stubborn man wouldn't have pulled the blankets over himself. He didn't deserve all the things he had. He didn't deserve the home he had, didn't deserve the few friends he still had, didn't deserve Grimmjow, and he especially didn't deserve Shiro.

"Ya know I'll never think bad a ya, King" Shiro whispered back, gently stroking the side of Ichigo's drawn face. He ran his fingers soothingly through orange locks and wished he knew how to make the man feel better.

The Caster didn't get like this very often anymore, but at least once a year, Ichigo would go into a deep depression at the memory of the accident. So distracted with all that had been happening around them the past few weeks, neither of the two had realized what date it was until the day had actually been upon them.

Shiro had woken up, the last to get up as usual, and wandered down stairs to find Ichigo standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall with tears in his eyes. A very confused Grimmjow had been sitting silently at the table, head tilted to the side and brow scrunched as he watched the Caster. Of course, the look on Ichi's face had told Shiro all he needed to know and he had rushed to his twin, wrapping the orange head in his arms and hugging him close until the unshed tears had spilled over.

The near-albino had sent a pleading look to the werepanther and the man seemed to understand what he meant. Without a word and silent as a cat, he had nodded and stood up, leaving the two alone. Eventually, Shiro had carried Ichigo back up the stairs, where they now sat at the edge of the bed.

"It wasn't yer fault, Ichi" Shiro murmured softly, wiping a tear away from the Caster's cheek with his thumb. He pulled the navy colored sheets further over King's shivering form.

Ichigo hadn't had anyone to teach him to control or how to use his abilities. No one had seen a Caster in generations and young Ichigo was left to curiously explore his blossoming abilities on his own. It was assumed that he was just like most other Casters. It wasn't until after the accident that it was learned that Ichigo was strongest in the dark magics; the arts of Necromancy.

How he had managed to bring Shiro back was still a mystery, Ichigo was still unable to raise the dead, at least not yet, but he had brought his beloved twin back somehow. They both believed it was forced by his emotional trauma at the time. As things were, he was just more adept at dealing damage and less at healing or repairing, but most of the time Ichigo took it in stride and made it work to his liking, even if the very idea of what he could do clashed with his kind personality.

Shiro didn't remember much about the accident, he didn't remember what it was like for the few months he had been...deceased. He only vaguely remembered the weeks after he had been raised, bits and pieces came back to him every now and then, but mostly just feelings and emotions. However, he remembered enough to know that he hadn't been killed by Ichigo, he had been lost sometime in the hours following the loss of their family. He could feel it, knew it to be true. But the Caster insisted he didn't understand how he had died, only that it had been his fault and it wasn't a topic that either of them brought up very often.

"But it was Shiro..." Ichigo said, his voice strained as he pushed words past his sobs. "It was my fault, I killed them...I..."

"Shhh...s'ok, Ichi, s'ok..." Shiro hushed his distraught copy, rocking back and forth as he cradled the crying man in his lap.

"I...I couldn't control it...I didn't mean too..."

"I know...I know..." Shiro said, closing his eyes to hold back his own tears. He couldn't let Ichigo know how much it hurt him to see his copy like this, it would only upset the Caster more. "I know ya didn't..." He leaned forward and kissed away a few more tears that slid down Ichi's cheek.

Ichigo had been exploring his new found abilities unknowingly when it happened. He had been too young to understand what he was doing, or that most people couldn't do the things he could. An unfortunate coincidence had triggered his harmless play into destroying the people he loved.

It had been rather late at night, the moon high in the overcast, midnight sky. Ichigo and Shiro had been playing in the family room, their parents sitting and reading only a few feet away. The twin girls had already been in bed, just toddlers still.

A loud, insistent knock had thrummed through their family home from the front door. Surprised, their mother had stood in a rush, setting her book down and hurrying to answer the door. Shiro and Ichi's father had set his book down as well, removing his reading glasses to place them on top of it and turned toward the hall, waiting for his wife to either come back or begin speaking with their late guest. He was a doctor and it wasn't all that uncommon for people who had emergencies to call on him at odd hours.

When no sounds were heard and no one came back down the hallway, Isshin had bade his children to stay put and went to investigate.

Several seconds had gone by, the boys not hearing anything. Then their mother had screamed and something thumped heavily to the floor. The twins ran down the hall, scared and unsure what was happening. They found two men standing in the entry way, their mother laying on the ground, hand to her face and her eyes wide. Isshin was standing perfectly still, a hooded figure standing behind him, his hand to their father's head.

They hadn't known what was going on, just that their parents were in trouble and something wasn't right. Later, Ichigo would be told the two men had been trying to rob the wealthy village doctor. Ichigo, acting on instinct he hadn't even known he had, cast his still developing magic. The act knocked everyone in the room, including he and his twin, to the ground, stunned but unharmed.

The hooded man with the gun had been the first to react, panicked and not knowing which of the twin children had been the rare Caster, he had simply fired at the closest boy he could; Shiro. Ichigo, screaming as his beloved brother fell to the floor, had lost his tentative control over his casting.

By the time he had realized what was happening, he had been clutching Shiro to his small chest, begging his brother not to stop breathing like mommy and daddy.

Shiro had died a few hours later, his blood covering his brother's clothing and seeping between the cracks in the wooden floor.

He could have been saved had Ichigo known to go and get help.

Ichigo had been found the next morning, still clutching the body of his beloved twin, when Isshin failed to show up at the clinic and his assistant, Renji's mother, had come to fetch him.

"Ichi...ya know I don't blame ya fer what happened, right?" Shiro whispered softly in his distorted voice. He would always be a walking reminder of the accident, but he couldn't change that and he knew Ichigo wouldn't want to.

The Caster nodded, sniffing as a few more tears slid down the side of his face to soak into his twin's pants.

"And ya know I love ya" Shiro continued, still speaking in quiet, soothing tones. "Ya don't need ta beat yerself up anymore..." He tightened his hold on Ichigo as new sobs racked the Caster's frame. Shiro hugged his King tight to his strong chest, not allowing him to see the single tear that managed to slip past his defenses to streak down his ashen cheek.

••••••

Nose held to the sky, grey muzzle twitching as it scented the surrounding forest, the old male wolf growled low in his throat, the sound rough and scratchy. He and his small faction of strays had been treading dangerous territory for hours with no luck. The rain that had persisted through the last few days had finally died down, but it had washed away most scent trails.

"Here kitty, kitty~" one of the strays he had picked up called softly into the cool breeze that filtered through the wilting trees. The air it's self smelled cool, hinting at the snowy season to come.

"Shut it." The male snapped, though he was careful to keep his voice low, noise traveled well in the after math of the cleansing showers, especially when most of the trees had shed their leaves and nothing remained to trap the sound.

True, they were looking for the feline deidad, La Pantera, and they intended to let the cat know of their presence. He had his doubts he would be able to sneak up on the wretched feline anyway, but he didn't want to alert the cat too soon, he wanted he and his group to find the feline before he found them.

"You're sure we're in the right place, Baraggan?" A beast of a man with an old, rusted sword strapped at his hip asked, his deep baritone was gravely and seemingly bored. He pushed passed the stray, ignoring when jaws were snapped his way as if they couldn't harm him.

The older male had never before met a human so relaxed in the company of werewolves. The human would be a nice addition to his new pack and a great connection to the village. The man even knew how to throw his weight around and never backed down from the deadly wolves. Baraggan wouldn't have been surprised to learn that the human was actually a monster of some type or another and not a human at all.

"I'm sure, Kenpachi. This is his territory, he usually comes running whenever something crosses into his land."

Another of his strays, a large, scared up wolf with a missing ear trotted up to Baraggan, his yellow eyes trained on the human in their midst. "A trail has been located, his scent indicates this direction, though the breeze is faint." The wolf pointed before turning to head back in the direction he had come, not waiting to see if his superior would follow.

The older male glanced at the human before following after his subordinate. "Damn strays need to learn some manners." He mumbled, before addressing the human. "Remember, Kenpachi. You are not to step in unless I tell you too."

"Yeah, yeah."

••••••

Sitting on the marble of the front steps, Grimmjow lazily scanned the tree line, not really looking for anything, simply doing it out of habit. He had considered wandering about his territory, but he knew the Caster could sense when something slipped past the barrier, weather going in or out, and he didn't want to disturb whatever was going on between the two men right then.

Grimmjow crossed his arms over his knees and rested his chin upon them. He could only guess what had caused the Caster to become so upset, the man had barely walked in the kitchen, bid him a good morning and then froze. At first it had seemed like he was only deep in thought, but as the minutes had dragged by, the feline had been able to feel the overwhelming emotion of loss wafting from Ichigo.

The emotions still skewed the normal feel of the Caster, but now Shiro's flavor mixed with it. The undead's own emotional state didn't seem too far off a match to his brother's at this point, but he did better at masking it.

The werepanther's curiosity was beginning to get the better of him and he desperately wanted to know what was going on. He didn't like seeing his humans so upset, but still he would give them their space. He could be patient.

Grimmjow stood from his seat on the front stairs and languidly stretched before leaping over the side of the stairs. The grass was damp and cool against his bare feet, but he didn't pay it any mind, being used to walking around barefoot. The refreshing breeze shifted and wrapped around his bared upper body; carrying the familiar scent of his territory and the humans' horses with it.

The werepanther rounded the side of the stables, listening to the way Shiro's stallion snorted and brayed as his scent wafted to the animal. He rolled his blue eyes a little and went back to scanning the tree line while he let his mind continue to wander.

Not a moment later, as the light wind continued to shift, the scent of another predator filled his nostrils and had the feline alert and ready. Anger welled up and bubbled in his gut at the smell of stray mutts lurking his territory, but a second smell held his curiosity. An original followed them, the signature familiar yet not at the same time. It wasn't Starrk or his hulking second in command.

Another curious scent presented it's self for a split second, catching the breeze and several meters away from the wolves. It smelled similar to the wolves, but it wasn't quite right.

As Grimmjow attempted to determine what or who the odd smell belonged to, movement caught his attention. The feline tensed, body automatically responding to the potential threat as he slowly edged toward the tree line on silent feet.

"No sneaking up on you, my friend." A stout, greying wolf stepped from the tree line, not bothering to hide himself from the feline. He looked the blue haired man up and down. There was no mistaking that this man was the feline deidad, but the sight was an odd one to behold. "I've never seen you look so... domesticated."

Grimmjow sneered, baring his teeth at the wolf that would dare address him with anything other than fear or respect. He took another step toward the wolf, bringing himself to stand only a few meters away and knowing that the barrier stood just a few feet in front of him.

"No fear in you either." The older wolf muttered. His sideways glance didn't go undetected by the werepanther.

"What do you want?" Grimmjow asked, his tone clipped and showing that he was in no mood to dance around or deal with mongrels.

"I have a proposition for you."

"I don't make deals with mutts." Grimmjow snarled, his tone giving away his werepanther heritage.

"Hear me out, if you will." The greying wolf continued, hardly bothered by the feline's initial response. He could only imagine the once mighty deidad associating with humans again for one reason; because he was out for power. "I wish to strike up an alliance with you. I can bring you strength, and all I ask is that you help me eliminate Starrk and take the Pack as my own."

Grimmjow was quiet a moment, still processing what this mutt had said to him. Finally, he threw his head back and let wild laughter rack his entire frame. After a few seconds passed, the werepanther regained control of himself and looked back at the werewolf, the smirk gone and a deadly look replacing it.

"No." With that, Grimmjow turned about and began walking back toward the human's home. A cruel smile stretched his lips when the air behind him crackled and a wolf yelped as it was flung to the ground by the protective seal.

••••••

Shiro rubbed his copy's back in slow, soothing circles. Ichigo had finally quit crying, but it was clear the Caster was still distraught. He sat in a half asleep state on Shiro's lap; his legs thrown over his twin's to hang off the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around the man's neck and his face pressed against Shiro's shoulder.

Shiro rested his cheek on the top of Ichigo's head, looking blankly at the wall while he continued to hold the Caster. His mind wandered here and there, but mostly he just concentrated on Ichigo; concentrated on to make him feel better, concentrated on the small sounds he made, on the way he sniffled every so often and how his breathing had finally evened out.

The orange haired man stirred, a slight groaning sound leaving his throat as he scrunched his brows together at the magical catch in the back of his mind. He wiggled about a little, weakly trying to get up but not really wanting to leave the warm, comforting embrace of his twin.

Thinking the Caster was upset again, Shiro cradled the man closer, rocking gently while he continued to rub slow circles against Ichigo's shirt.

"S'alright, King..." Shiro murmured quietly before he let a soft, familiar tune fill the room. He could never remember the words, no matter how hard he tried, but he would never forget the way the song had sounded. So he hummed in a quiet, soothing tone and closed his eyes as he let it fill the silence.

Ichigo, the tug on his mind forgotten as memories took it's place, let a slight smile crease his lips at the wordless song. "You haven't done this in a long time" He whispered, voice a little hoarse and raw from his emotional breakdown.

Shiro paused in his humming. "Nope, it was a song mother used ta sing, right?" He asked in a watery voice just as soft as Ichigo's had been.

The Caster smiled and nodded his head. It was easy to think that Shiro was lucky. The pale twin didn't have to relive all the painful memories that he had to, Shiro couldn't remember most of them. But it was moments like these that Ichigo felt truly sorry of his beloved brother; fore Shiro couldn't remember most of the good memories either, memories that Ichigo wouldn't have traded for the world.

"It was, she used to sing it to us when we were scared" Ichigo answered, not moving from his place and still resting his head on his pale twin's shoulder. "You used to hum it a lot when...when..."

The sentence was unfinished, but they both knew what Ichigo meant. The song, hummed and without the words, had been among the first real sounds Shiro had made after he had been raised and brought back to life. It had taken nearly a month for him to actually form words, and longer still to form complete sentences. But he had picked out the song their mother used to sing after barely a week.

After Ichigo had seemingly gotten over his trauma, he had moved back to his family home, living by himself, though Renji had always made it a point to stop by at least once in a while to make sure he was alright. Eventually, he had broken down, unable to handle what had happened, and Shiro had been brought back.

The Caster had carried him up the stairs and to their old bedroom, placing him in the bed to let him rest while he adjusted and took the time he needed to awaken. Shiro had slept for days, but when he had woken up...

Ichigo would never be able to forget the horrible screaming he had woken up to in the middle of the night...

He had ran up the stairs, taking two and three at a time, as fast as he could, terrified and confused. He had thrown the door open with enough force for the knob to break through the drywall. Shiro was found sitting, huddled with his knees to his chest, on the floor in the corner of the room, his pale skin contrasting starkly against the pale blue of the painted wall, his haunted, gold on black eyes wide and terrified as he screamed.

Ichigo had dropped to his knees beside his terrified twin and did the first thing that came to mind; he had pulled Shiro into his arms, holding him tight while he let the man continue. He had figured being brought back might be hard on him, but he hadn't known how hard.

That first time, Shiro had screamed until he wasn't physically able to any longer, until only whimpers could be forced passed his throat. They had held the same routine for several days. Each day, Shiro's terrified screaming would be a little shorter and a little less scared until one day, it only lasted a few minutes, more of a frightened cry. He had woken up screaming like usual, but it had died down quickly and a soft, broken hum had slipped past his lips as stared blankly at Ichigo with wide, haunted eyes. It took him a few tries, but by the time Ichigo could form words around his astonishment, Shiro had found the tune, perfect and beautiful even though he couldn't sing the words.

Some days, Ichigo would murmur comforting words to his seemingly lost brother, or tell him stories of how they used to play in the park with Karin and Yuzu, or about their mother and father while Shiro hummed the little tune. Other times, he would sing the words for his twin, somehow knowing that Shiro couldn't remember them on his own. Eventually the song had become the pale twin's source of comfort and Ichigo would sing it to him whenever he would wake up frightened and screaming for years to come.

"You still can't remember them, can you?" Ichigo asked quietly, already knowing the answer. Even after all these years, no matter how many times Shiro heard Ichigo sing to his hummed tune, he could never remember the words long enough to sing it himself, but the tune was always perfect, always flawless and beautiful.

Shiro shook his head and Ichigo hugged him tight, but he held onto the apology that wanted to slip out. He would never apologize for that, never for bringing Shiro back. He loved Shiro more than anything, even his own life, and he would never regret bring him back, even when things were rough.

A loud, thunderous crash broke their moment of remembrance and had them both on their feet, hearts slamming against their respective ribcages. They ran out the door, flying down the stairs with Shiro taking the lead, not a word nor look passed between them as they focused on what was going on.

••••••

Growling at the thought of stabbing Starrk in the back, Grimmjow walked away from the greying wolf. He sneered as he cut between the horse stables and the large building he could now call home and walked up the front stairs.

He heard the frustrated, guttural growling and snapping of the old male wolf and a few of his followers as they hovered around the edge of the forest, angered that they couldn't come after him. No doubt angered by his rejection as well. The feeble sun light cast his shadow upon the marble stairs as he ascended them.

The odd smell that he had caught a whiff of earlier caught him off guard and he had just enough time to process that it was human before a larger shadow overlapped his own.

Grimmjow spun around, body automatically tense and fight or flight instincts kicking into over drive. It was a rare thing for something to get so close to him without his knowledge. A hulking beast of a man stood barely a foot in front of him, the man towering over him by at least six inches. An insane smile stretched across angular, tanned and scarred features and the sadistic looking spikes of the man's jet black hair only added to his air of danger.

The werepanther looked up at the man, his lip curling slightly. If he had been in his resurrection, every hair on his body would have been standing on end as he flattened his ears. As he was now, however, Grimmjow squared his stance, balancing on the balls of his bare feet and suddenly glad that he had been borrowing the baggy shorts rather then tight fitting, constricting jeans the Caster had tried to get him to wear. "Can I help you?"

The taller man cocked his head, crazed grin never faltering. "Nah. Ya don't look like much of a monster to me." His deep, graveling voice radiated threat even in the fairly conversational tone he used.

"What the hell do you want? You with the mutts?" Grimmjow growled back at the man, mind working at a frantic pace to figure out what this human could possibly want while he tried to calm his raging instincts. Everything screamed at him to back away.

"You could say that." The man's voice was calm even as he exploded into motion, hand going to a sword belted at his hip but not drawing.

Grimmjow ducked the first strike; a heavy punch aimed at his jaw. He side stepped and brought his own fists up to a guarding position as he backed around and away from the man.

Another shot was thrown his way, almost carelessly and easily dodged as the werepanther dropped off the stairs, landing on the grass and hoping to give himself some room to move. He lowered himself to a crouch, measuring the big human's movements. Something seemed off about the way he swung and followed after the werepanther.

The reason was soon made clear. With stunning speed, the human dropped off the edge of the stairs and threw himself at Grimmjow. The bluenette snarled, ducking below another swing and throwing a one, two combo of his own, still feeling out his opponent.

The text book shots weren't blocked, nor did the human make a move to get out of range. He accepted Grimmjow's punches as the werepanther hit solid muscle, forcing a mere grunt from the man.

The Caster was still working on the seal and while he still couldn't cross it in his resurrection, once inside the barrier he could veer now. It would hurt like hell, but it could be done and the werepanther was starting to consider it.

"You're stronger than you look" The man said as he laughed. "Maybe there was some truth to what the wolves told me." He lunged at Grimmjow again, grabbing hold of the slightly smaller bluenette.

Grimmjow was forced to grapple with the crazed human, growling and baring his teeth as he struggled to keep the man off of him. He brought his elbow down, catching the man across the back of his neck, but it seemed to only anger him and the human wrapped his corded arms around the feline's abdomen before bodily lifting Grimmjow from the ground.

Lifting the struggling werepanther above his head, the human laughed. "You're more fun than I thought you'd be, but I'm looking for a monster to fight"

Grimmjow struggled, his eyes wide as the man lifted him with very little effort and spun back toward the house. He grabbed hold of the man's wrists, twisting and trying to brake free of his grip.

"Show me that beast." In the next instant, the man below him grunted and heaved with all his strength. His crazed laughter reached Grimmjow's ears as he sailed through the air. A hiss tore from the feline's throat just before he collided with the front door of the human home.

Wood splintered and the door was torn from it's hinges with a cacophonous crashing sound that echoed down the quiet hallway. Breath knocked away, Grimmjow landed amid the wreckage of the door, pieces raining down around him as all fell silent again. He lay still a moment, then groaned, forcing oxygen into his stunned lungs as he rolled over.

Running footsteps could be heard faintly coming from the stairwell further down the hall and the werepanther knew the Caster and Shiro had heard. Not wanting his humans to get involved with the dangerous man, Grimmjow staggered back to his feet, bracing a hand against the wall behind where the door used to be, his back to the man. He took a moment to breath before straightening up and turning around to face his opponent.

A crazed grin met his gaze, the human seemingly over ecstatic. "Good, good. On your feet already!"

Teeth bared, Grimmjow let a grin stretch his lips. "Fuck it." He mumbled, and launched at the human as the air around him crackled with unleashed power. He grunted with strain, pushing past the pain and forcing his veer despite the constricting magic that surrounded the twins' home. A yell left his throat, turning to a deep roaring as his human body gave way to his werepanther form.

The human's own insane smile faltered when the blue haired man that had launched at him landed as three hundred pounds of sleek muscle, throwing him from the top of the short flight of stairs to the ground.

••••••

Shiro and Ichigo raced down the spiral stairs, the former sliding down the last curve and stretch of the bannister. He landed on his feet and was instantly sprinting down the hall way toward the front door, the Caster on his heels. A slight groan reached their ears, accompanied by the sound of scraping and panting.

Grimmjow came into sight as he struggled to his feet, his bare torso cut up. What was left of the door lay adjacent to the bluenette, half of it leaning against the wall with the bottom hinge still stubbornly dangling from the frame. As Shiro and Ichigo watched, confused and shocked, the werepanther turned his back to them and took a running step, ignoring the splintered wood he tread upon.

An almost pained, yet enraged yell shattered the pregnant quiet. The bluenette veered mid-air; his tanned, heavily muscled body stretching and forming into his lean, agile werepanther form. The yell became a deep, angered roar as he hit something outside and beyond the twins' line of sight.

The two men ran to the door way, bursting through and sliding to a halt at the top of the short stair case. A sword hissed from a scabbard and maniacal laughter shattered the sky.

"There's the monster!" A stranger's deep, rough voice exclaimed, his glee and joy obvious.

Grimmjow jumped back into the battle as the two brothers watched, his own laughter mixing with the stranger's for a moment. He grasped the swinging blade, halting it's motion and landing a heavy hit upon the man. The stranger staggered back from the blow, yanking the blade from the cat's grasp and initiating his own attack. The mangled edge bit into the flesh of Grimmjow's shoulder as the man spun about.

The werepanther hissed and leapt back, blood welling to the surface to tint his black fur red. The cut stung, of course, but he could feel it begin to knit closed as he sprang at the man again.

Shiro flipped the safety off on his gun, but didn't aim it. He looked to Ichigo, who looked just as curious and confused as he was. Neither recognized the human their werepanther housemate was fighting, but for the man to be able to force Grimmjow into his resurrection while being inside the barrier was certainly something.

As they continued to watch, unsure what to do or if they should step in, Grimmjow blocked a sword strike with his forearm, the middle of the blade cutting into his limb. The panther ignored the blade as his hooked, talon like claws shredded the man's black jacket and ripped through muscled flesh.

The man jumped back, his grin still firmly in place as blood welled to the surface of his abdomen and trickled down his toned stomach. The two traded blows, both drawing blood and abusing the other. Grimmjow growled and stepped inside the range of the biting sword, grabbing the human's sword arm and holding it out of his way as he landed a heavy punch to the man's jaw.

Still, the human only smiled. He jerked his sword arm away and stepped out of the feline's range, using the longer reach to keep Grimmjow from striking. The feline edged around the strike zone of the crude looking sword. He bared his teeth and hissed his frustration, wondering why the man was so relaxed and confident when he had hardly left more than a mark on the feline.

"Here Kitty, kitty." The human chanted, taunting the werepanther. The jagged, damaged edge of his sword didn't seem to do much damage to the cat, but he had a secret. The very tip of his sword was the real danger, at least to a werecreature. He was only biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Grimmjow growled; a deep, angered sound, and leapt at the man, pushing his wariness aside. He was met with the human's blade, swung by thickly corded arms in an impossibly swift arch.

Ichigo and Shiro watched as the tip of the pitted and rusted blade drew blood in a diagonal slash across the werepanther's chest. It didn't seem to be an overly deep wound, it should have been nothing to the cat, but something was off. Ichigo took a tentative step forward, on to the top step; Shiro standing behind him with his gun still in hand.

The feline had froze, his blue eyes widened fractionally before scrunching closed as his head fell back and a yowling rose from his throat. The yowling wavered and turned to a yelling, almost a scream, as the werepanther dropped to his knees, arms wrapping around his torn chest and abdomen. Blue black fur melted away and Grimmjow curled around his wound, blood pooling below him.

The deranged human laughed and raised his sword above his head, preparing for another, more devastating strike to finish off the injured cat-turned-man.

Ichigo jumped from the stairs, leaping toward Grimmjow where he lay curled on the ground at the stranger's feet. The cat was unmoving, save for the tightening of his muscles and the small, jerky movements associated with someone in great pain. He didn't understand why the seemingly minor cut had hurt the feline so badly, but he could tell Grimmjow was in trouble.

"King!" Shiro raised his gun and fired, but the sword was already on a downward arc, Ichigo standing between it and the bluenette.

A strained growl resounded around the yard, mixing with the echoing gun shot, followed by a surprised yelp from the Caster. Ichigo tumbled to the ground, Grimmjow's blood slicked arm wrapped around his middle. The werepanther pulled the Caster close to his chest, forcing the man to lay on the ground with the cat half laying over top of him as he used his own body to keep Ichigo safe from the deadly blade. The stranger stumbled backward, clutching at the bullet wound in his side as he swung, his sword barely missing it's mark.

Shiro jumped from the stairs to the ground, placing himself between the two downed men and stranger. The crazed man was already running through the yard, disappearing into the forest, his maniacal laughter echoing back to them as he went.

The near-albino spun around, dropping down to his knees beside Grimmjow and Ichigo. "King? Ya ok?" He asked, his lilting voice filled with worry as he looked at the blood smearing his copy's belly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The Caster said, pulling out of the feline's arms so that he could turn and look at him. Grimmjow was breathing in strained pants, his teeth bared and face contorted with pain. The Caster settled a hand on the bluenette's curled form.

Grimmjow flinched at his light touch, arms wrapped around the stinging, burning wound to his chest.

Looking over his shoulder to make sure the strange man was still out of sight, Shiro edged around to the other side of the injured feline and holstered his gun. He desperately wanted to go after the mad man that had invaded and threatened his small family. But right now, Ichigo and the cat were more important.

"Grimm?" He asked, grabbing the werepanther's arm and carefully prying it away from the cat's abdomen. "Let us see...I'm ganna roll ya over, k?"

Grimmjow gasped as the two men rolled him onto his back, the motion making him grit his teeth. Ichigo pulled his already blood stained shirt off and used the cloth to wipe some of the blood away from the wound.

"It doesn't look that bad, why is there so much blood?" The Caster said, looking at the cut. It certainly wasn't the deepest gash they had seen the panther take, yet it had dropped him almost instantly. Ichigo wiped gently at the weeping cut, taking notice of Grimmjow's strained breathing and tense body. "Grimm? What's going on?"

The werecat pried his eyes open, not remembering when he had squeezed them shut around the pain. The all too familiar, unbearable burning of silver seemed to light his entire abdomen on fire. The sword was gone, the pain and sting should have left with it.

"S...Silver" A pained groan left his throat with the words. Grimmjow pushed the twin's back with shaky, blood soaked hands as he struggled to get to his knees. The two stood still for a moment before realizing what he was doing and pulled him to his feet. Grimmjow staggered toward the tree line, his instincts kicking in and his body automatically carrying him toward the stream that ran through his territory. The stream he had used to clean so many wounds in years past.

"Hey, where ya tryin ta go?" Shiro asked, ashen brows furrowed with confusion. Maybe the cat was delirious. "House is this way." A pale hand wrapped around a thick upper arm as Shiro tugged gently toward the front stairs.

"Shiro" Ichigo half whispered from the bluenette's other side. "I think we should get him inside and cleaned up so we can get a better look."

The pale man nodded and the two half dragged the werepanther toward the house.

••••••

"I assume you got to watch what happened?" The man's deep voice was a little amused, not the slightest hint of uneasiness in it as he spoke to the werewolves surrounding him.

"Of course, but you failed to kill him." Grey ears flattened back as the wolf snarled at the human. "A single sword strike, silver or not, wont stop him!"

"Tch. It's not a silver blade." Kenpachi said, rolling his eyes and taking a seat on a fallen tree. He peeled his shredded, blood soaked jacket away, wincing ever so slightly as the fabric stuck to the lacerated flesh beneath. "It was coated with a kind of liquid made with silver."

The tip of his sword had been dipped in an experimental poison, made with silver that had been ground into a powder like dust and who knew what else, that he was supposed to test out for a business partner of his. It seemed to have done the trick and would be tough to clean out of the wound. Kenpachi knew the werepanther was said to not be as sensitive to the cursed metal as the werewolf race, but if the silver was left to run it's course through his blood stream, it would reach his heart eventually, where it would be fatal. That was if he didn't bleed out first. Kenpachi hadn't stuck around for long, but he had glimpsed quite a lot of blood pooling below the cat's form.

The old male wolf began to retort, but Kenpachi cut him off with a stern look as he stood, his amused tone gone. "My fight was interrupted, maybe if I'd have known I would be shot at I would've been prepared."

"I told you about the humans." The wolf countered, turning to follow after the large human as he pushed passed the surrounding wolves.

"You told me there was a low level Caster to worry about. You didn't tell me about his gun toting ghost." Kenpachi continued to trek through the forest, ignoring or uncaring of the angered and indignant glares the gathered strays were sending his way. He moved his hand and peered down at the bullet wound in his side.

The slug had cracked against his ribs, slicing the flesh and sliding until it lodged somewhere between the bones. He would no doubt require medical attention beyond what he could do himself. He replaced his hand and pressed to help stem the flow of blood.

"Ghost? They were both humans, you knew as much when you agreed." The grey wolf's nostrils flared at the inviting scent of fresh human blood even as he fought not to flee the scent of silver from the bullet still lodged under the flesh. At least, if nothing else, he knew the humans La Pantera had found used silver.

"Yeah, but neither are as you said."

The greying wolf cocked his head to the side, ears perking slightly in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"One's an Undead. And who do you think raised him?" Kenpachi asked, not bothering to look over at the wolf as they continued heading in the direction of the village. "not only did you ask me to kill a Deidad, but he has powerful allies. I was lucky I didn't get shot at sooner, that Undead must be more human than he looks."

"Either way. You inflicted the damage you needed to on him, yes?" Baraggan asked, pausing as the sounds and smells of the village drew near.

"I did." Kenpachi kept walking. Leaving the wolf behind. He was beginning to doubt that he had delivered a deadly enough wound even with the silver concoction. If the cat lived, he would have to hunt him down for a rematch. A twisted, sadistic grin stretched across his scared face.

But first; he needed to get to his partner's place and get his bullet wound looked at. He edged his way down an ally way, grabbing the long coat he had stashed there before exiting the village to meet up with the werewolf known as Baraggan. He slipped the coat on, careful to pull it tight about his large form and hide the shredded flesh of his abdomen as well as the bullet wound. He pulled the small bells from his hair and let the black strands fall around his face.

Kenpachi exited the ally, ignoring the small woman he bumped into and turned down the main street and further into the center of town. The best place to hide something you didn't want found was in plain sight. Careful to look as casual as he could, Kenpachi walked through the front door of a small shop that dealt in selling low caliber hand guns and blades. The shop boasted being one of the only ones in the area that still sold silver weapons and ammunition and was run by a goofy man that simultaneously put his costumers on edge and made them feel right at home all at the same time.

The injured man nodded to the shop owner as he disappeared behind the counter, towering over the shorter owner. The shop owner tipped his hat and smiled up at him, stepping to the side to make room for the large man and playfully poked his side, seeing the way Kenpachi was holding what was most likely a nasty wound. He chuckled at the well hidden wince he received and shook his head before going back to his day job.

A narrow hallway lead to a short, wooden staircase closed off by double doors in the floor that would take Kenpachi to the lower level, where the real fun took place. He threw the cellar doors open and descended the stairs. A light in the back of the extensive, well hidden space let him know the man he was looking for was still there.

••••••

Stuffing her hands in the pockets of her long skirt, Rukia frowned at the ground as she walked down the street. A giant of a man walked from an ally, brushing passed her but he ignored her and she merely glanced back at him before returning the favor.

Renji had told her about his visit to see Ichigo and his brother. He had also told her what had happened; of how he, Shiro and the monster cat had saved that small family. She had wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of a monster saving people, but she had held herself in check. And she couldn't deny the small welling of pride it had given her, knowing that Renji had helped the family. It even made her want to have faith in Shirosaki; faith that maybe he could be a little more normal than he looked.

Days had passed since the little rescue had taken place, yet the rumors of a goodly creature stalking the forest had hardly died down. The rumors and stories angered her. She refused to believe that a monster could be benevolent. The beast had to have some ulterior motive.

Just earlier that day, word had spread that a couple of young children; teenagers that thought they were being tough, had gone out looking for the cat. Neither had yet to be found and the parents grieved at their loss. For all anyone knew, they had found the feline monster and it had destroyed them like it would Ichigo and Shirosaki and probably Renji too if it was given the chance.

Her finger tips danced along the cool metal of the small gun located in her deep pocket as she ignored the world around her, lost in dark thoughts as she chased after a lesser spoken rumor she had heard. She looked at the buildings around her, hoping that she would be able to spot the location when she found it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This one wasn't quite as long as the last, but a lot of information was pumped out so I hope that makes up for it ^^;<strong>

**What did you think? Let me know~**


	10. Chapter 10

**I just wanna tell you guys... I fuckin' love all my readers~**

**Anyway, on to the show! Well, chapter...  
>Enjoy~<br>**

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><p>Ichigo ran back down the hall, sliding on the smooth floor before turning into the washroom, his arms loaded with clean towels and medical supplies. The water pooling on slick tile soaked the bottoms of his pants and his bare feet, but the mess went unnoticed.<p>

Shiro held the injured man as still as he could, keeping him laying in the tub with his back against the rounded basin as he attempted to clean the still bleeding wound that ran the length of his abdomen.

Between bouts of pained groaning and gasping, the cat had managed to get the point across that whatever silver still remained in the wound was causing him all the problems and that it needed to be cleaned out. Now. Shiro and Ichi had dragged him to the bathroom, figuring it would be easier to drop him in the tub to clean the large wound out.

"Come on, ya gotta stay still fer me..." Shiro mumbled as a the feline's muscles contracted and spammed and his body jerked, splashing water out of the tub and onto the floor. They hadn't actually filled the basin, just had the faucet running, but the man was still managing to make quite a mess, not that either of the humans could blame him or really even take notice of it.

Grimmjow gripped the sides of the tub tight enough to turn his knuckles white, baring his teeth as another pained sound squeezed out of his throat. His corded muscles bunched and strained as he fought to keep still like the near-albino had told him. Shiro gently ran a cloth along the cut, wiping the blood away and the bluenette yelped, his hands going to the source of his overwhelming pain. Running on mere instinct, the feline desperately tried to rid his body of the cursed metal, inadvertently tearing at the sword slash as he tried to search for the burning silver. The shards and pieces were too fine and small for him to get a hold of and he was doing more damage than good, but he couldn't help it.

"Shit, Grimm! Quit that..." Dropping the supplies he had grabbed on the counter by the sink, Ichigo edged around Shiro to kneel on the wet floor behind Grimmjow. He reached over the bluenette's shoulders and grabbed the feline's wrists, keeping his bloodied hands away from the wound he kept trying to instinctively dig the silver out of.

"Use the stuff in that bottle, Shiro" Ichigo told his twin, nodding toward a greenish colored, glass bottle on the counter. "It's supposed to bubble and clean out any debris." He wrapped his arms about the shivering man, still holding onto his wrists to keep his hands away from the vicious wound. Worry gnawed at his gut, making the Caster clench and unclench his jaw. He hoped the antiseptic cleaning liquid would be able to remove the silver from the cat's body, it was the only thing he could think of that might work.

They had tried to search for the pieces, but they couldn't find what they could hardly see. A faint shimmer among all the blood and shredded flesh was the only evidence that the silver even resided in the feline's body.

Grimmjow panted, laying back against the porcelain basin of the tub, the Caster's arms wrapped around his shoulders and keeping him from struggling. A near constant growling groan left his throat that he was hardly conscious of making, the sound changed pitch with every movement or touch to his abdomen as pain lanced through his body and flashed behind his eyes. His body quivered but he didn't feel cold, he didn't feel anything over the burn of silver.

Shiro grabbed the bottle, pulling the stopper off and up ended it, letting the cool, bitting liquid run over the gash in the werepanther's torso. The medicinal liquid foamed and hissed as it sluiced through blood and torn flesh.

The man's reaction was almost instant. Grimmjow arched his back, his head falling back to lay heavily on Ichigo's shoulder as he struggled in the Caster's surprisingly strong hold. A whine escaped as he squeezed his eyes shut around the burning sting.

Ichigo pressed his lips to the feline's creased brow and murmured softly in a comforting tone, looking to Shiro from the corner of his wide, worry filled brown eyes. Gone were the memories of their past as the two focused on how to help the man they now included in their future.

His pale copy grimaced, but nodded and grabbed a clean cloth. He whipped away the bubbling foam, now tinted pink with blood. Looking back up at Grimmjow, who was beginning to relax a little again in the Caster's grasp, he apologized quietly before pouring more of the bottle's contents down the man's toned abdomen.

The feline turned his head, burying his face in Ichigo's neck. His sharp teeth drew a trickle of blood from his bottom lip as he bit down to suppress his pained whimper. He failed and the pitiful sound threatened to bring tears to the Caster's eyes.

"You alright, Grimmjow?" Ichigo asked in a soft voice after a moment. The man's breath panted across his neck and chest in short, fast bursts, but he felt a slight nod against his skin. "Is it working? Can you tell?"

Grimmjow took a deep breath as a cool cloth was ran across the sword slash, clearing the foaming medicine away. "Y...yes, it is." He could feel the burn of the silver lessening. The fine pieces were being drawn out and lifted away by the bubbling liquid, but it certainly didn't feel good. It felt like someone had lit his torso on fire, the burn spreading out to his extremities, making them tingle in a none too pleasant way. The harsh liquid was drawing the silver out, but it burned too, like throwing alcohol on the flame.

••••••

"What did you say you were fighting against?" A slim finger pushed the wide brim of a hat back slightly, letting bright eyes glitter as the shop keeper watched the bigger man's face remain a controlled, bored expression.

"Cat." Kenpachi ground out, careful not to breath too deeply as his business partner hovered over the lacerated flesh of his abdomen with a needle and thread. The man was good at anything that required intelligence or a steady hand, which is what made them such great partners. Kenpachi was the muscle and the man to go out into the field, while his partner played the roll of brain and stayed in the lab.

Nimble fingers maneuvered the needle, pushing it through skin and drawing the thread tight to close another section of gouged flesh. He had long since grown used to patching Kenpachi's scared hide and knew the big man wouldn't flinch and mess him up while he worked.

"I think you could use a new cat, then" He mumbled quietly, still concentrating on the task at hand. It was hard to miss how large the dragging claw wounds were, though. He'd half expected to hear the man had been mauled by a werewolf.

"hnn, I don't have pets." Kenpachi curled his top lip, his dark eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. "He was a werecat; a worthy opponent. I would have been in trouble if I hadn't had that silver poison. Sword hardly seemed to bother him without it."

"Ah, yes. I presume it worked quite flawlessly." The decidedly male, yet somehow odd voice of his partner held no small amount of confidence as he continued to sew the brute that was his business partner up.

"I thought it was suppose to knock him out." Kenpachi half asked, half stated. The silver had knocked him to the ground, stripping his resurrection like it was supposed to, but as far as Kenpachi had been able to tell, that was the only ingredient in the poison that had effected the feline.

Slim fingers paused to hover over the next section of gored flesh for a moment. "It should have made muscle control impossible as well as drugging the creature up. Did it not?"

"Nah, he was still very awake and kicking..."

A small bell jingled from the ground floor, interrupting the conversation. The shop keeper spun his chair in circle before hopping to his feet and prancing much too enthusiastically to the short staircase that would take him to the upper level.

A moment later, Urahara's cheerful, sing song "Hello~" reached their ears through the opened double doors in the floor as he greeted the shop's guest.

"The meeting with the wolf, how did that go?" The man asked, tying the thread off and snipping it close to the skin with a pair of small, sewing scissors. He unlocked the heavy swivel, doctor's chair and twirled it until Kenpachi sat facing the wall before locking it again.

"Tough to say. He's playing a dangerous game and didn't want to show all his cards." Kenpachi sat still, watching his partner wash his hands and grab a scalpel from a metal tray. The scientist pulled the tray closer and adjusted the arm rest of the chair, motioning for Kenpachi to rest his arm on it to hold it up and out of his way while he worked.

Kenpachi looked straight ahead, grunting when thin fingers began probing along path the slug had taken; starting at the entry wound and pressing on his damaged rib before finding where the shell lodged under his flesh.

"There it is." The man whispered to himself after a moment. Keeping one hand in place against Kenpachi's side, he grabbed the scalpel with his other. "Any idea what it's up to?"

Kenpachi clenched his jaw, looking straight ahead as the tip of the blade sliced through his skin over the bullet. "Not sure he knows what he's doin'. He asked the cat about ousting someone named Starrk, but when the cat refused he sent me in."

"Hmm, hence the damage." The man said knowingly, using a pair of forceps to dig through the incision he had made. "Sounds like it's trying to keep it's options open... Almost have it..." He twisted the tweezers around, feeling the tips scrape against the shell.

Kenpachi grunted as he felt metal scrape metal under his flesh. "Doesn't matter what he's doin'."

"True enough." The man gently eased the forceps out of the scalpel cut and the shell thunked to the metal tray. "hmm, you're feline friend uses silver?" He asked curiously, rinsing the blood away from the shell with a squirt bottle.

"Nah, kitty didn't seem to like silver much. That was a gift from a ghost."

Kenpachi's partner stared blankly at him for a moment. "Oh my. There's only one Undead around here that I've heard of."

••••••

Wiping the last of the foaming cleanser away from the man's torn abdomen, Shiro looked up into clouded, unfocused blue eyes. "Ya sure that's all a it?" He asked quietly. They had drained more than half of the bottle to get it all, he had thought they might need to go find more. Whoever had made the poisonous concoction with the silver had been clever. Shiro and Ichi had nearly needed to bleed the poor feline out to clean all of it out of his wound.

Grimmjow's eyes sharpened slightly at the lilting, distinct voice and the werepanther nodded tiredly, grasping the edges of the tub and beginning to pull himself upright. Shiro and Ichigo helped him step from the tub before using a clean, dry towel to pat his bare body down, collecting as much of the water and saturated blood from him as they could.

A groan bubbled from his throat as he was lowered into a chair. Grimmjow blinked and forced his eyes to focus. They were in the sitting room now, a small, warm fire lit in the fireplace; he couldn't even remember the humans walking him down the hall to get there. He felt weak and tired and he wondered what else had been mixed with the odd silver. It was possible that most of his disorientation was caused by the hours he had sat in the tub, enduring unbelievable pain while the humans had diligently cleaned his injury though. He couldn't concentrate long enough to decide.

The room shifted and he felt warm hands braced against his shoulders, back; working down and around his abdomen. Shiro was holding him upright, keeping him still while the Caster dressed the raw sword slash with cloth bandages. Delicate, gentle fingers worked a cool, soothing salve over the wound and the werepanther let his eyes slip closed again, the barest hint of a purr escaping in uneven intervals at the relieving sensation.

Ichigo secured the last of the bandages and helped Shiro position the man so he was laying back in the chair. He smoothed damp, limp blue strands away from Grimmjow's face and looked to his twin, finding that his own worry was reflected back at him. The werepanther's words had been slurred slightly back in the washroom and the Caster could tell he was having trouble focusing on his surroundings.

"He'll be ok, right?" Ichigo asked softly, knowing his brother couldn't really tell him anything he didn't know already. They both started slightly at the rough sound of the panther's voice.

"It's going to take more than this to kill me off." He lay, propped up in the chair, unmoving. His brilliant blue eyes were still closed. His hair lacked it's usual sexy chaos, the blue strands falling around his face, but his voice was sincere and determined. He would rest, let his wound heal and let whatever had been coating that sword work it's way through his system and then he'd be fine. Just like always; just like every other grievous wound he had taken in his long life.

It wasn't so easy to kill a deidad, even a fallen one. That strange human would find that out soon enough, Grimmjow had time. He frowned a bit, forcing his hazy thoughts to reorganize into something coherent. Something tugged at his memory; the rogue original and his stray followers. Familiar, yet not. He had said something about Starrk; offered the feline a deal.

The two men watched blue brows pull together, the werecreature's angular face showing confusion before his eyes opened wide to reveal their stunning color, nearly glowing with their own light.

"Woah, hey..." Shiro reached out and pushed Grimmjow back into the chair as he struggled to get to his feet. "I don't think ya should be up an' movin around already."

Grimmjow grasped the pale man's wrist and struggled to push him away, his usual overwhelming strength lessened from his battle with the silver. His eyes were wild as they swung up to look Shiro in the face. Unveiled worry, almost fear, swirled in their depths and it looked like he would try to bolt at any moment.

For a minute, Shiro feared he had somehow forgotten them, that he didn't recognize them. But in the next instant, the unusual fear was replaced with a pleading look.

"I need to talk to Starrk." Grimmjow said, his deep voice low and serious. A hint of his desperation showed through in his tone. He and Starrk were supposed to be rivals, sworn enemies; but they're relationship was something more than just that. A silent understanding had always hovered between them. One that the werecat didn't understand himself, but it was there and he felt he needed to warn the wolf. He owed Starrk that much at least.

"You can't go hunting the forest like this..." Ichigo said hesitantly. He could see the determined glow to Grimmjow's eyes, but he wasn't going to let him get himself into more trouble. If he went out looking for the Alpha, he would undoubtedly run across other werewolves and he wasn't in any condition to fight his way through like usual. The wolves would recognize his weakness and exploit it while they had the chance.

"I need to warn him." Grimmjow said, looking at the orange haired man. He wanted to get angry, wanted to be furious at someone daring to tell him what he could and couldn't do. He couldn't bring himself to be, though. He understood, he knew the Caster was only looking out for him, that Ichigo was worried about him.

"Let's try in the morning, maybe" Ichigo said, silently hoping Grimmjow would agree. "We can check your injury and see how you feel then."

The werepanther studied the Caster's face. He let out a quiet sigh and nodded, falling back into the chair. The human was right, his body needed rest. He smirked as he watched both humans visibly relax as he rested back and made himself comfortable. He wasn't conscious long enough to even see the humans take their respective seats.

••••••

Dark eyes flashed in the dying light of the day. A cruel sound, almost a laugh, left a beastly throat as screams pierced the chilled air and drifted away on the wintery breeze. A glass window shattered, the shards audible to sensitive ears as they landed on the hard wood floor and window sill. Heavy footsteps crunched over the broken glass and a gun shot, loud and echoing, broke through the screaming. The sound was followed by an enraged snarling before a desperate yell was cut short with an unnatural abruptness.

Greying lips pulled away from vicious fangs in a mock smile. The old male stood amongst the shadowed and mostly bare trees and watched as his small pack raided the human home. The front door was thrown open, the wooden portal illuminated by a warm, inviting light from within.

A woman shrieked and ran through the opened door, clutching a child to her chest. The girl's blond hair was pulled away from her frightened face. Angry, red and half healed wounds ran down the side of that young face, across her frail neck, disappearing under the pink dress she wore.

Baraggan stepped forward, his gait calm and unhurried as the woman made a run for the village. The hope of escape was illogical; the nearest neighbor was miles away. Their feeble human hearing wouldn't be able to pick up the woman's pathetic cries for help as she tried to save herself and her only remaining child. The denizens of the village were further still, they wouldn't even hear the echoing gun shot.

The villagers would find all the bodies but one with the next dawn; blood cold and sticky on the floor boards. A family murdered in the dark of night, killed by creatures few believed in anymore, just more casualties of the dangerous season. Entreals were pulled from body cavities, spread across the floors; blood splashed across walls, streaking the shattered glass of windows, reaching to spray the ceilings. A meal was left to grow cold on the table, just like the bodies it was meant to nourish. The only survivors would be the father and son's hunting dogs; the hounds smart enough to fear the beastly visitors and stay quiet as they huddled on the end of their chains, pulled as far away from the house as possible and cowering in the dirt. They would never hunt again. Driven mad by the events that killed their masters, the town officials would shoot them once they dealt with the bodies of the family.

Dark, canine nostrils flared in anger for a brief second. His scent still lingered. The bodies of his four followers had been disposed of; burned and the ashes buried in the surrounding forest. But the feline's scent still lingered around for those who were looking to notice. The scent mingled with the human occupants, it had lost it's sharpness, it's clarity, but it was still distinctly feline. He had taken pity on them once; saved them and spared them from a grizzly fate. He had shown a weakness the werewolf didn't think he had still possessed.

The werecat would recognize this for the warning it was; the threat and promise it implied. No more words would be exchanged between them, the werepanther had insured that. Baraggan had planned to overlook that the feline and his human pets had killed a few of his followers, there were always more strays to recruit; but after their little exchange...

Maybe the insufferable panther would finally put the last pieces together. He had never quite figured out how that human Caster had found him, found his sacred temple to bind him all those centuries ago.

Another cruel chuckle slipped passed his parted lips as Baraggan silently gave chase. He caught up to and captured the woman in mere seconds, no effort needed. In a pathetic and feeble attempt to save her offspring, the human spun and clutched the girl closer, placing herself between the toddler and the attacking werewolf.

The old male tore through her body with ease, her spilt blood staining the child's pale dress and hair. The girl's eyes were large as she stared up at Baraggan, tears streaked her face as she clutched at her mother's sweater. Red seeped through, mixing with the blue of the fabric held in small hands, blossoming into a pretty purple before darkening to a deep, tainted crimson.

Baraggan bared his yellowed teeth in a smile full of malice. The screams of the child's family being slaughtered by his wolves created a fine background noise as he snatched up the young human.

"There there, girl. Do you know what I am?" He whispered, wiping her tears away and only succeeding in smearing the mother's blood across her small features. The old wolf shrugged to himself as he bent to grasp the gurgling woman by the hair. Her eyes were already dull; her mind dead and her body slowly coming to realize it had lost it's fight.

He stood back upright, clutching the crying toddler almost carefully in one arm; a giant hand fisted in the dead woman's long hair. He began his short walk back to the house, dragging the woman behind him.

"An omen of change, child." Baraggan said, his rough voice soft, mocking a parent's soothing tone. Blood mixed with the dirt of the path he tread on, the human woman's body digging a shallow furrow; like a trail to be followed or a ditch for blood to flow through; blood that would nourish the flora of the surrounding village before drowning it.

There would be no survivors. The small girl was dead too...well she would be. Just not yet. Not even the werecat could save her this time. No, Baraggan had a message to send, a warning to deliver, a fate to seal.

He smirked as blue flashed in his mind; furious, wild fire simmering in their depths. Cold fire and despair.

••••••

Shiro opened the door to the restroom, dragging a hand through his unbound, white hair. He hid his yawn and a tired smirk behind his hand as King yawned at the same time, edging passed him to enter the now unoccupied room.

"Think we should wake him up?" Shiro asked, his lilting voice soft as to not disturb the comfortable silence that had enveloped their large home. He leaned against the door frame and watched his copy ready himself for bed, purposely keeping his eyes directed away from the bathtub. Neither of them had felt up to the task of scrubbing it down yet and it still sported the reddish stains from the man that was currently sleeping in a chair down the hall.

"Probably. The last thing we need is for him to wake up later and try to climb the stairs on his own." Ichigo shook his head a little. He had thought Shiro stubborn, but Grimmjow put the near-albino to shame sometimes.

The paler of the two snorted his agreement and turned from the bathroom to head back to the sitting room, where they had been for most of the evening. Grimmjow had fallen asleep after only a few minutes and true to his heritage, seemed content to sleep away most of the hours following the cleaning of his wound. The twins had come to the conclusion that it was his body's way of conserving energy and focusing on the healing process. Also true to his feline heritage, he was easily awoken and every time one of the humans had moved to much or stood up, Grimmjow was awake enough to see that it was only Shiro or Ichigo before he fell back into his soft slumber. It was a miracle that he hadn't woken up while they had snuck away to ready for bed.

Shiro walked over to the fireplace, dousing the flame before he made his way quietly to Grimmjow. He kneeled beside the sleeping man, curled in one of the chairs in a position that no normal man could possibly be comfortable in. "Hey, we're goin' ta bed, ya comin'?" The ashen man asked softly, not wanting to startle the feline.

Blue brows furrowed and Grimmjow pried open a single eye, still unmoving save for the steady rhythm of his even breathing. He let the question hang in the air for a moment before nodding and stretching his muscled arms above his head. He winced and quickly dropped his arms, wrapping them protectively around his damaged abdomen as he let a slow, controlled breath hiss between his teeth.

"Nice job." Shiro said, his tone mocking but light hearted and quiet. He extended his hand to the injured man.

The werepanther sent a glare that would have been scary in any other situation to the pale man standing before him, but accepted the offered help and carefully pulled himself upright.

"How are you feeling?" Ichigo asked from the door to the hallway. He watched the man gingerly walk passed him, surprised that he still made not a sound even in his injured state as he slowly padded down the hall. He followed Grimmjow and Shiro toward the staircase.

Grimmjow grunted, his tired mind wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. The deep wound to his midsection screamed at him with every step he took and, not for the first nor last time that day, he wondered what else had been mixed with that silver. Whatever it was, he knew it wouldn't be enough to cause serious damage, but it made his mind fuzzy and everything hurt and he hoped it worked through his system quickly. "Like someone tried to dissect me, otherwise I'm fine"

Ichigo winced a little at the man's answer, but it was understandable. He braced his hand across the small of Grimmjow's back as he swayed a little on the stairs. By his side, Shiro tightened his grip on the werecat's arm and the three of them slowly made their way to the second floor.

Once the man was laying on the large mattress of the bed, he was out like a light and the twin humans pulled the blankets over him before climbing into the inviting and large bed to join him. Grimmjow made a soft groaning noise as the bed shifted and he wrapped his arms around the men, one on either side of him, in his sleep. A quiet, contented purr drifted into the silence and Shiro rolled his eyes, a happy smile tilting his lips as he leaned over the naked man to kiss Ichigo.

"Night, King." He whispered, settling back down.

Ichigo smiled in the dark, closing his eyes and resting his head on Grimmjow's shoulder. "Good night, Shiro"

••••••

Grimmjow snapped awake with a slight gasp as something fell heavily across his torn abdomen. He bit into his bottom lip, forcing his breathing to stay regular as the sharp pain subsided to a dull throb.

His mind feeling much more clear than it had earlier, he wondered how long he had slept. A quick assessment of the dark room and it's other occupants told him that morning had yet to arrive. He looked down, to the source of the weight on his sore torso and what had woken him.

Shiro's pale arm was draped across his middle, the albino had somehow switched their positions, situating himself in between the Caster and Grimmjow. Shiro was laying on his stomach. His head was on the pillow next to the werepanther's, his pale face turned toward his own. Petal soft lips were parted slightly, exhaling soft, sleep heavy, sighing breaths. His ashen hair cascaded across the navy colored pillow like wispy clouds in a dark, sunless sky.

Ichigo had thrown the blanket off himself at some point and was huddled against his copy, lightly tanned arms circling Shiro's trim, boxer clad hips. He was bent at the waist, his head resting on the lower part of Shiro's shirtless back, facing the foot of the bed. His shoulder length, orange hair fanned across Shiro's pale back, giving the man the appearance of having more color than was normal.

Grimmjow smirked and kissed the pale twin on the forehead. The sight of the two was pretty adorable and he wished he could reach Ichigo as well.

Shiro hummed lightly, happily, at the soft kiss. He turned his face upward, bringing his own lips to meet Grimmjow's.

The kiss was deep yet soft, sweet even. "Thought you were asleep" Grimmjow murmured quietly against pale, inviting lips.

"Hnn" Shiro's gold on black eyes fluttered open, their intensity nearly making them glow. "Woke up when ya did. How ya feelin'?" He asked softly, lips still brushing Grimmjow's.

"Little better, not so...foggy." The panther answered. Shiro kissed him again, tugging gently at his bottom lip with his teeth. The albino shifted a little, turning to face Grimmjow's solid body more.

He kissed the man's angular jaw line, brushed his lips across smooth, warm skin. He made his way down the man's thick neck, nipping lightly at his collar bone before returning to his lips again. "Tha's good" He whispered, then pulled back a little to look into darkening, blue eyes. Shiro smirked apologetically. "Sorry, pro'lly wouldn' be very good fer ya at this point though..." He kept his voice low, trying not to disturb his sleeping copy.

Grimmjow almost whined, almost. "You can't just stop after that." He pointed out, voice carrying a husky tone to it. He snaked his arms around Shiro's neck, pulling the man close again. He initiated a searing kiss, letting the near-albino know he was more than interested in continuing and couldn't care less about what was good for him at the moment.

Shiro smirked and bit down as the feline's devilish tongue tried to invade his mouth. He quickly replaced the opened space with his own, carefully pulling himself out from under the sleeping Caster. Ichigo stirred, rolling over to face the opposite direction in his sleep. Shiro reached down, lips still sealed with Grimmjow's, tongues still battling for dominance, and pulled the blanket back over King.

Pale hands ran over solid, tanned muscle, careful to avoid the gash that split the even planes of Grimmjow's abdomen. Shiro pulled away, breaking the kiss. A thin string of saliva connected them, broken once the feline ran his tongue over his full bottom lip. Darkened, heavy lidded blue eyes regarded a pair of shimmering, equally lust heavy golden ones and Grimmjow could tell Shiro had something specific in mind. The thoughts died in his mind as slim fingers fisted gently in his wild, blue mane and pulled, forcing Grimmjow to expose his throat for the albino.

Shiro ran his hot tongue over the corded muscle of the man's neck, nipping here and there. He dipped his slick muscle into the hollow at the base of Grimmjow's throat, receiving a quiet moan for the action. He licked his way back up, stopping to kiss the underside of the feline's chin and jaw.

Big hands ran down his back, blunt nails scratching lightly with urgency. Shiro could feel the feline's heavy member come to life below him, his own cock responding as his erection strained against his boxers. Shiro palmed the werecreature's growing erection to distract him as he slicked his fingers with his own tongue.

Grimmjow groaned quietly, body arching into the teasing touch of Shiro's hand. That sinful tongue and mouth returned to his neck, biting down as a hand sneaked between his legs and a finger traced the seem of his cheeks.

The bluenette stiffened and Shiro paused to look up at him, silently asking permission to continue. Grimmjow's eyes were half mast and dark, his breathing coming in light pants with his arousal. He reached a strong arm around Shiro's shoulders and pulled the pale man's upper half closer, crushing their lips together while his hips bucked up slightly, grinding his hard member into Shiro's hip.

Taking that as a go ahead, Shiro let his exploring digit push between and circle around Grimmjow's entrance. The werecat's chest rumbled with a deep, arousing growl that forced a shiver to run through the human. Using his free hand, Shiro pulled Grimmjow's knee up and pushed his legs further apart before settling between them. A strong hand wrapped around his wrist as he pushed his other hand forward, slipping his finger into the man's tight entrance.

"Ff...fuck..." Grimmjow breathed, squeezing his eyes closed.

The breathy tone went straight to Shiro's dick as he gazed at the delicious man spread out below him. Grimmjow quivered slightly as Shiro slowly drew his finger back, the muscles of his abdomen bunched and tightened below the white fabric bandages. The near-albino moaned low in his throat with want, his hard cock aching.

He did his best to be patient, giving the werepanther a moment to adjust while he slowly and shallowly thrust his finger in and out before adding a second finger. Grimmjow's head dropped back to the pillow, his brow creasing but a heavy groan fell from his parted lips and his hips bucked at the mix of pain and pleasure. Shiro picked up the pace of his thrusting digits and leaned forward to tease at a pert nipple with his tongue.

Below him, Grimmjow writhed, pushing back against the invading fingers a few times before finding his voice. "Shiro..." He practically growled, all thoughts of staying quiet as to not wake the sleeping Caster next to them gone. "Now..."

The word was a command and Shiro was all too happy to comply. He pulled his fingers out, yanked his boxers out of the way and lined up. He thrust forward, pausing when the head of his cock pushed passed the tight ring of muscle and Grimmjow whimpered slightly. Leaning forward, Shiro kissed the corner of his lips, drawing his attention away from the pain.

Grimmjow pried his eyes open, looking up into Shiro's gold on black orbs as the albino thrust forward once more, sheathing himself fully. A strangled moan erupted from the werecat, matched by an aroused groan by the pale man above him. After a moment, Grimmjow reached down, gripping pale hips and pulled; trying to force Shiro into motion.

The ashen man smirked before drawing back, almost leaving Grimmjow's tight heat completely before he snapped his hips forward again. The werecat grasped at his arms, running his fingers and nails over the toned muscle of his shoulders and down his chest. Shiro found a steady rhythm, thrusting with deep, even strokes that had the bigger man below him panting and groaning quietly. Damn did he want to hear more of those sounds.

Shiro thrust harder, increasing his speed as he snapped his hips forward harshly. Grimmjow's whole body jerked, his head falling to the side as one hand fisted in white locks, the other finding purchase in the sheets he was laying on. He pulled Shiro closer, forcing him to thrust deeper.

"Mnnn...More..." Grimmjow demanded, his voice still commanding and powerful even as he writhed and panted below the smaller man.

"Shit...Grimmnn..." Shiro moaned out as he complied with the werecat's request and forced his pace to quicken.

Beside them, Ichigo stirred, slowly being drawn from his slumber by the increasing sounds and movements behind him. He furrowed his orange brows before opening his eyes, his still sleep heavy mind confused. That was definitely Grimmjow's voice and panting, was the man alright? He feared something had happened and taken a turn for the worse through out the night.

He rolled over slowly. "Grimm? You ok?" His eyes widened and he froze, instantly awake as his twin thrust forward and Grimmjow's face contorted with pleasure, a growling moan erupting and bubbling forth over parted lips.

Shiro pulled back and thrust again, the hand gripped in his hair finally falling to snag in the sheets at the werecat's side. Grimmjow tossed his head, darkened eyes, nearly matching the dark sheets, found the Caster's wide brown ones. A slow grin started to take over his handsome, flushed features but Shiro thrust forward again and Grimmjow's moan filled the room and his grin was transformed into an expression of pure, carnal pleasure.

"Tha's it...moan fer me, Grimm..." Shiro ground out, thrusting again. His fingers dug into tan hips as he changed his angle slightly.

Grimmjow's cry of pleasure sounded from deep in his throat, letting the albino know he found what he was looking for.

Ichigo slowly sat up, eyes glued to the scene before him. His hand found it's way to his already rock hard member inside his shorts and he couldn't help but stroke as he watched his brother pound into the fierce werecat.

Shiro grunted as he continued to thrust, his rhythm became unsteady for a moment as heat pooled in his belly and he felt his release hurtling toward him. He eased his grip on the werepanther's hips and started to wrap pale fingers around the man's saluting cock.

Ichigo batted his hand away and leaned forward, licking up the side of the heavy member before wrapping his lips around the head. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked down the length, humming when his actions were rewarded with a throaty moan from the bluenette. One hand still pumping his own aching cock, Ichigo used his free one to cover what he couldn't reach with his mouth.

Shiro watched the orange head bob up and down on Grimmjow's length for a moment. His eyes snapped to the feline's face as the man's deep voice rose above the combined sounds of their panting and his body stiffened. His back arched away from the bed and a moment later he came hard with a deep, grunting moan.

Ichigo swallowed, pulling away with a soft pop. He stroked himself a few more times before his own body convulsed and his seed covered his hand, spilling into his shorts. Shiro thrust deep once more, the werecat's tight heat milking his cock and pulling his orgasm from him. He panted and leaned forward, supporting his weight on slightly shaking arms to keep from falling across Grimmjow's wound.

Grimmjow panted, laying back on the bed, his body throughly sated. He grimaced slightly as Shiro slowly pulled his softening member free and he ignored the fluids trickling from his cavity.

Shiro collapsed to the bed beside the bluenette, wrapping his arms around Ichigo and rolling over to pull the Caster over him and place the man between he and the bluenette. Ichigo settled down, letting his arms wrap around his twin's waist, head pressed against his sweat slicked chest and his knee resting between Shiro's legs. He felt Grimmjow shift behind him, then a soft breath tickled at the back of his neck and a warm tongue ran across the shell of his ear before strong arms wrapped around him. The breathing against his neck evened out in a matter of minutes and the Caster smiled softly as he snuggled against his twin and closed his eyes again.

••••••

The message was sent, delivered by way of code; a certain pattern to the howling drifting on the chill breeze, a certain note drawn out more; longer and lower than another, always coming from directly north, even though the designated meeting place was to the south of the village.

Kenpachi listened to the hushed call for a moment before standing from the metal chair. He had asked the male wolf he was meeting why he didn't just veer and walk into town to find him. He had learned, much to his partner's curiosity and interest, that not all werewolves could veer. Once human werecreatures, ones that were turned by an original lost their human form all together, while originals usually preferred their animal or were-forms; something about ancient rules that not many still understood but were for some reason compelled to follow. He had also been told that some originals never learned how to veer and basically had no human form at all.

His partner looked up from his most recent experiment, the hapless creature was lucky enough to be long dead by now. Honey gold eyes appraised the larger man with a calculating gaze before the scientist shrugged and went back to his work. He held little doubt that Kenpachi would drag himself back, torn and bloodied again by morning. It made little difference in any case.

The giant of a man belted his jagged, worn sword to his hip, loosening it in it's sheath for easy access incase if it was needed. Not bothering to cover his newly stitched up torso with a shirt, he grabbed his long coat from the back of the chair and slung it over his broad shoulders, drawing it tight about his large figure to hide his sword and his bared upper body.

"Kenpachi." The man turned around to face his partner. A small vile was thrown his way and he easily snatched it out of the air before it could sail passed him and shatter on the wall or floor. Holding it up level with his face, Kenpachi nodded to his partner; a silent gesture of gratitude for the small amount of liquified silver. It wasn't much, but even just touching it could kill a werewolf and it would be more than enough to deter the monsters from stabbing him in the back.

Kenpachi tucked the vile away and turned to ascend the stairs. He nodded to the shop keeper, ignoring the short, dark haired customer wandering aimlessly down the aisles that had turned large eyes on him and left the small store, disappearing into the darkened village.

Urahara beamed at the brutish man as he left, waving cheerfully and bidding him a good night. Of course he knew the man was being called upon, he could tell the difference between a werewolf howl and a natural wolf howl, even if it was nearly inaudible in how quiet the call had been.

The shopkeeper turned back to his store. A young man roamed the shelves of ammo, a boy, presumably the man's son followed close behind. But it was a petite woman that held his attention, not that he let it show, as his eyes were hidden in shadow below the brim of his hat.

She had been there once before, her and a man. Her larger, red haired companion wasn't there this time. They had already purchased hand guns and silver ammo, something the citizens didn't do often. True, almost every house hold owned some type of gun for protection and hunting, but few bothered with silver anymore. If he was correct, she carried her weapon with her while she wandered his shop at the moment, looking as if she knew she wouldn't find what she wanted out in the open.

The small woman disappeared from the shop, following a few minutes after Kenpachi had left. Urahara watched her turn in the same direction as the bigger man and smiled to himself. Maybe they would soon have a new business partner.

* * *

><p><strong>Candy...gunssilver... Practically the same thing ^.^**

on a side note. If you're just going to complain about Grimmjow bottoming, please don't. He's injured and his body wouldn't have been able to handle the extra strain. Also, it's hot when dominate guys get dominated ^_~**  
><strong>

**Anyway~ What do you think about the chapter? Still enjoying the story? Let me know~!  
><strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes that may be in this. Shadow has been battling a very unhappy stomach and rather mean headache for the passed couple days and I'm not feeling up to par. I may go back later, once feeling better to make corrections**

**But for now, try to enjoy~  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Small hands pulled the cowl of a hooded cloak tighter about a slim figure as she entered an ally way and rounded another building. The forest now stood directly before her; black, ominous and deadly. She watched as the shadowed figure she had been trailing hesitated ever so slightly and seemed to turn fractionally, as if too look back over his shoulder before crossing the tree line and instantly blending with the leafless trunks.<p>

She feared she had been caught at first, but he hadn't seemed inclined to make her stop following him if he knew, so she darted forward, determined not to be left behind or loose sight of her goal. Renji was at home, probably sleeping by now. He believed her to be visiting her brother and his family again this night, she had told him she would be home tomorrow afternoon and so had plenty of time for her search.

She ducked closer to the ground, hiding behind the brush and watched as the man paused amongst the trees. He pulled something from a pocket in his long coat and the faint tinkling of bells reached her ears. The giant of a man stooped slightly and she watched as he erected wicked looking spikes into his black hair, the small, silver bells attached to the ends.

The man continued forward with all the ease in the world, as if he had a specific destination in mind and wasn't strolling through a dangerous forest in the middle of the night. After several more minutes of traveling through the silence, he came to a halt and his deep, gravely tone trailed back to her. She couldn't tell what he said, only hear the tone of his words and fear began to raise in the woman. None of it sounded too friendly.

Another voice reached her, slightly louder and holding an amused tone but she only caught parts of what was being said. "...of course...potential ally..."

She watched the tall man nod slightly "We'll find out" He said to the shadowed figure before him.

The second speaker moved, the feeble light of the near full moon catching his features. Rukia covered her mouth with her hands, suppressing the gasp of surprise and fear that wanted to escape as her violet eyes widened with shock.

Before the man she had been following stood a monster, but what really made her heart pound in her chest was the small bundle held in one of it's powerful arms. Blood and dirt smeared the canvas colored cloth, the object within hung limply in the wolf's grasp. Violet eyes widened even further as the tiny, swaddled bundle wiggled and a very human whimper of pain and fear escaped from a tiny, damaged body.

••••••

Grimmjow rolled over and slowly sat up, dropping his bare feet over the edge of the bed and to the cool floor. He stretched, really just straightening his torso a bit as he refrained from actually stretching his arms too high and pull the flesh of his abdomen too tight. Running a hand carefully back through his mess of blue hair, he slowly twisted his upper body to look behind himself at the bed he sat on.

Both of his humans still slept soundly, their limbs intertwined with each other and a thick, dark colored blanket pulled over their bared chests to ward off the cool air. The trademark, light scowl that the Caster normally held was missing, as was Shiro's usual slightly deranged smirk. Replacing the waking expressions of both men was a soft, serene look of comfort and ease.

A slight smile stretched across handsome, angular features and Grimmjow took his time in standing up. He was pleased when the tear in his chest and stomach didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the previous day, though there was still a dull throb and the stiffness associated with the knitting of skin and scar tissue.

The werepanther eased the wrapped bandage off the gash as he left the room, careful not to let it pull at the scabbed over sections. He gently traced a hand down the mark; starting from his collar bone and ending nearly at the opposite hip. The new skin covering the sword slash was thin and smooth, almost having a slippery texture to it. He would have to take it easy as to not rip the fresh flesh and minimize permanent scarring. It would also go a long way to speed the healing process if he didn't put any unneeded stress on the area.

The bluenette eased his way down the stairs, quite mindful of the aches caused by his wound and the rough play of the night before. Smile turned to grin as he reached the bottom of the stairs, thoughts of the previous night's escapade drifting through his mind's eye. He might have to let the near-albino top him more often.

Back in the bedroom, Ichigo stirred at the loss of a warm, solid body at his back. He shivered and tightened his arms around his twin's waist, burying his face and snuggling closer to the pale chest before him.

"hmmm... Mornin' King" Shiro mumbled tiredly, folding his arms around Ichigo's shoulders and tangling his fingers in silky, orange locks.

"Good morning" Ichigo said, yawning as he did. He felt Shiro smirk against the top of his head and a smile found it's way to his lips as well.

They lay together a while longer, enjoying each other's warmth and comfort before finally deciding to crawl out of bed and head down stairs to find their companion.

Grimmjow was predictably sitting at the island counter, a chunk of raw and bloody meat sitting on the plate in front of him. The twins had given up trying to cook his food for him and made sure they kept enough fresh meat stocked in their fridge, much of which the feline must have hunted down himself as they never seemed to run low. Though they weren't about to ask him how or when he went and they had yet to see a carcass laying anywhere near the house.

The Caster paused as he glanced over the bluenette, taking in the sight of his now unbandaged abdomen while ignoring the red that stained his lips and finger tips. The feline smirked.

"See something you like?" His deep voice purred out, dripping with sin and filling the space like the finest of melodies.

Beside the Caster, Shiro snorted, a wide grin marring his ashen features. Ichigo rolled his eyes but walked right up to the sitting feline to take a closer look at the wound. An idea struck him and he hid a smirk of his own as he looked into vivid blue, noting the various flecks and rings of indigo and a silver color that made the crystalline pools dance and swirl.

"Actually, I do..." He let his voice take on a husky edge, dipping to let his lips brush against the feline's sensitive ear as he spoke. Two could play that game. He trailed his fingertips carefully down the man's chest, feeling the fresh skin covering his wound. Muscle twitched slightly under his light caress and he saw as much as heard the bluenette suck in a quick breath. "I'm glad to see you seem to be healing incredibly well." With that, the Caster turned around and walked to the fridge, a wide smile plastered to his face as he passed his brother.

Shiro's laughter startled Grimmjow from his frozen state and his wide eyes narrowed slightly before he went back to his meal, ignoring as his lower regions tried to stir to life. "Fucking tease..." He mumbled around a bite but he didn't bother to hide the smirk that stretched his full lips.

••••••

Enraged snarling and near desperate howling ripped the wolf from his slumber. Grey eyes snapped open as his head shot up, sleep instantly pushed away from his conscience. His brain processed the meaning of the distant sounds, forcing his body into motion by instinct, before another sound caught his attention; something all too familiar.

Starrk leapt to his feet, long, powerful legs carrying him across the room and into the corridor. He nearly collided with a frightened Lilynette in his doorway and the larger Alpha grabbed her shoulders to hold her on her feet as he slid to a halt, claws digging into the earthen floor.

He looked down into wide, terrified eyes. The she wolf cowered against him as another irate, senseless roar shattered the distant silence. His ears instinctively swiveled backward against the sheer wave of implacable anger that radiated from the deep voice. It was nearly unrecognizable.

Starrk lowered to be at eye level with his smaller sibling. She stared wide eyed toward the entrance of the den, as if she expected the combatants to enter at any moment even though it was clear they were miles away.

"Lilynette." Starrk said quietly, shaking her gently to gain her attention. Frightened eyes were turned his way as the young she-wolf clutched at his muscled arm. "Stay put, do you understand? Nnoitra and I will figure out what's going on."

The she-wolf nodded at him, her eyes darting from Starrk to look down the corridor that lead to the main entrance and back again. The Alpha gently pushed her toward his personal chambers where she would be safe before standing back to his full hight.

The enraged growls and roaring was unnerving. Even from this distance, nothing more than pure hatred and grievous outrage sounded in the calls, like a furious storm that tore apart the very earth, destroying everything in it's path. Never had he heard something so...lost in overwhelming anger, yet the rage had a bitter, tainted flavor to it. Starrk flicked his ears, a motion that seemed as though he was trying to rid the disturbing sounds from his hearing, and padded down the corridor in all haste.

What remained of his dwindled Pack, loyal beasts hand selected by Starrk to survive his necessary purge, was stirring, most of the members making their way to the corridor with the sounds. All of them waited to see what their leader would do, what action he would take, and what commands he would give. They looked at him with expectations and trust born of hard times.

Starrk motioned forward one of his runners; a lean and swift wolf. "Find Nnoitra. Bring him to me." The Alpha werewolf dismissed the messenger, knowing that the summons would be unnecessary. The ever present shadow that was his second was no doubt already trotting down the corridors, headed in his direction. The command had been more for show, something for his testy Pack to hear and hopefully set their minds at ease, something to reassure the members that he would not fail them.

The Alpha continued down the hall, the furious, bellowing roars echoing throughout his forest, and pulled certain wolves aside, building his hunting party as he went. He chose his closest and most trust worthy wolves; nearly the same group that he had selected to be his enforcers while he had weeded out the traitorous wolf's followers.

Whatever the threat, it was too near the den, too near their territory and too aggressive to be ignored, lest he yet again jeopardized his hold on and standing in the Pack. This would be seen as a test. The first real trial that had occurred since the Pack had sundered to test his ability and worth as the Pack leader.

And he would not fail.

Starrk emerged from the sheltered den, his posture and attitude showing calm confidence while a storm roiled in his dusky grey eyes. His sentries stood with tense bodies, one to either side of the entrance and a third out in front, as they listened to the furious clash, ears facing forward and heads turned in the direction of the slaughter.

That's what was happening; not a battle, not anymore at least, but a slaughter. Now that he had left the earthy confines of his den, Starrk could smell the spilt blood in the air. The bitter scent filled his flared nostrils, tainted and mixing with the sheer terror and desperation riding the breeze.

A large, lanky shadow passed by him before Nnoitra stepped into view. The second too was facing the sounds that echoed through the forest, his lone eye wide in what must have been disbelief. Starrk glanced up at him; a silent understanding born of decades of companionship danced between them. The black wolf nodded slightly, his dark eye darting to his Alpha before returning to the forest. He and Starrk took off in a swift, loping pace into their territory; the rest of his hunting faction following close behind, padded feet making hardly a sound.

••••••

"You can't be serious" Ichigo stared at the naked man still seated in his kitchen and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking a hip. The werecat had finished his meal and promptly announced he was going to hunt down the leader of the werewolves to deliver word of the wolf that would attempt to over throw him.

"I am." Grimmjow said firmly, his tone showing that he would not back down. He held little doubt that Starrk knew of the traitorous wolf. The Lobos leader wasn't stupid by any means, but he tended to let things come to him first and the knowledge that the attack was more than likely going to be sooner rather than later could prove the difference between his living and dying. Grimmjow owed Starrk that much.

Shiro watched the two, locked in their battle of wills, his gold on black eyes shining with his amusement. He could see the unwillingness to relent hardening the lines of both mens' features and knew King had met his match. The feline had a stubborn streak that wouldn't allow for defeat.

"Well, while ya argue 'bout it, I'm ganna go feed the horses." Shiro said, mostly talking to himself as he doubted either would acknowledge him. He rolled his eyes and walked past his more colorful copy and entered the hallway, grabbing his hooded cloak as he went to fend off the season's cool air.

"Your wound needs more time to heal, what happens when you find the wolves?" Ichigo asked with concern. The sword slash from the day before wasn't bleeding and was on it's way to healing quite nicely with the cat's unnaturally fast regeneration, but it was far from top shape and wouldn't take much to reopen it.

Shiro's words vaguely registered in the Caster's mind and he absently nodded, not realizing that the albino had already walked out of the room. The sound of door locks turning and the handle unlatching carried softly down the hall as his twin opened the new door to leave the house. The chilly breeze that signaled the coming of winter whistled quietly through the opened portal and Ichigo shivered as it's icy fingers curled into the kitchen.

"I'm counting on running into the mutts to..." Grimmjow cut his sentence short, his lips still parted for a moment before his jaw snapped shut with an audible click and his head tilted up slightly. Blue eyes took on a glacial tint as his nostrils flared, taking in the scents that rode the slight breeze that had been let in from outside momentarily. A growl emanated from deep in his throat as the breath snorted from his lungs and the feline shot to his feet. The stool he had been seated on slid back, catching on one of the tiles and falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

Ichigo jumped at Grimmjow's swift movement and the sound of the chair as it bounced off the tile once before rolling to a stop, his chocolaty eyes wide as he watched the bluenette. "Grimm?" He asked tentatively, rotating where he stood to watch the cat stalk passed him with the silence and fluid grace of a skilled predator.

Their previous conversation was forgotten as the feline padded down the hall and to the door. The unmistakeable scent of blood struck him as familiar for more than one reason and something clicked into place as his mind finally settled on where he had smelled this particular human's blood before. He threw the door open, the heavy metal that made up the new door made little difference in the face of his strength and urgency. The werecat leapt down the front landing, his bare feet sliding on wet grass.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo ran down the hall after him, snatching the customary robes that were hanging behind the now open portal as he rushed out the door after the man. He watched Grimmjow slide a few feet across the wet ground before catching himself and taking off again.

Shiro turned at the sound of King's voice calling after the cat, just in time to see said feline rush passed him, headed for the tree line. Ashen brows furrowed as Ichigo joined him near the stables and they watched the man slow to stop.

Head raised, Grimmjow tested the air again before altering his course and treading carefully toward a large oak tree that stood just inside of the barrier. He edged around to the other side of the tree, his movements cautious and slow as if he was trying not to scare a smaller animal. His chest heaved, but not from exertion as his sharp eyes landed on a small bundle of canvas fixed part way up the trunk.

Throwing a brief glance at one another, Shiro and Ichigo trotted toward the strangely acting cat, something in the back of their minds screamed through their shared confusion. They slowed to a walk as they watched emotions play across Grimmjow's face and his eyes widen as he looked up at something on the other side of the old oak tree. Rounding the tree and taking a place beside the feline, a few steps back, the twins looked up at the small object seemingly clinging to their tree. Orange and white brows simultaneously furrowed as they studied it, before their brows shot up as they both realized the rust color smeared across the canvas surface wasn't dirt, but blood.

A slight, strangled sound rose from Grimmjow's throat as the what lay beneath the tarp rose and fell in a shallow motion. Ichigo's hand shot to cover his gaping mouth before he was pushing passed the frozen cat, the first to react to the haunting sight before them. A strong hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder, jerking his reaching hand away from the rough fabric before he could pull it free. The Caster looked back up at the man. Blue eyes never left the object as Grimmjow stepped around the Caster, gently pushing him back toward his pale copy.

The cloth rose and fell again in a slow, shallow motion and blue brows pulled together even tighter as the cat watched. Ever so slowly and carefully, Grimmjow reached up, letting his fingers brush the object. He already knew what lay under the covering but his mind was unwilling to believe it, unable to wrap around what his senses told him. The object flinched slightly under his touch and a barely audible whimper left his throat to match the one that left the body below the suspended cloth.

He heard the two men behind him gasp at the noise and closed his eyes for a moment before steeling himself and pulling the top edge of the cloth down.

Long, dirty and blood stained blond hair tumbled into view. Wide, light green eyes; glossed over and dulled from being near death, slowly rolled to focus on his face. The angry, red and puckered tracks of half healed wounds stood out starkly against the pale face. Tear streaks had washed rivulets through the dried blood she was coated in, striping her face in a sallow pattern. The little girl's mouth fell open, dried blood cracking around near colorless lips, as she tried to speak.

"k...kit...ty..." Grimmjow's wide eyes filled with unshed tears as he stared up at the small human child he had saved nearly a week ago. He didn't know how she could have recognized him as the werecat that had fought the wolves but it hardly crossed his mind. Her frail body shivered slightly and sent him into motion.

Carefully pulling down the rest of the rough fabric covering her body, he was granted with the sickening sight of the wooden spikes that had been driven through her thin limbs to hold her in place against the tree. Blood seeped in a thick, turgid trickle down her arms as she shivered again, her once pink dress fluttering in the slight breeze.

Grimmjow could see that her mind was beyond feeling the pain of what had been done, numbed by the cold and blood loss. He carefully reached up and wrapped a strong arm around her tiny waist to support her as he grasped the first of the spikes in the opposite hand. Muscles bunched as he slowly pulled the wooden stake from the tree, leaving it to impale her limb lest she finish bleeding out.

He took his time. Pulling the spikes from the tree one by one before the girl was finally loose and he pulled her close to his bare chest. He bent slightly to grab the canvas cloth from the ground, wrapping it around her shivering form before slowly turning to face the human men once more. His face was composed, calm even, but his expressive azure eyes gave away his inner turmoil.

Ichigo and Shiro stood in a state of shock, the Caster's pallor near a match to his colorless twin's. The men took a step toward the bluenette, neither set of eyes leaving the small form in his arms.

"Is...is that...?" Shiro could barely force words passed his dry mouth as he watched the small child shiver and Grimmjow tighten his hold around her protectively. The feline nodded, unable to form words of his own and his much larger form quivered slightly, his muscles filled with tension. "Le's get her inside..." The pale man whispered, tightening his hand around King's and giving a slight tug.

They started to make their way to house, intent on getting the frail child inside and warmed up. In the back of their minds, all three of them already knew the girl was dead. There was very little they could do for her in the condition she was in, but at least they could try to warm her up and hope that she wouldn't be so scared and alone.

As they reached the front stairs, Shiro holding the door open, a slight, breathy gasp shuddered from the toddler and her small chest failed to raise. A quiet, strangled whimper escaped Grimmjow as he looked down at her pale face and sightless eyes as he cradled the tiny body in his arms with great care. The feline dropped to a sitting position on the front porch, his legs crossed under him as he looked down at the little girl. He brushed his fingers down the side of her face, flashes of a different era playing before his eyes as he closed her unseeing ones; another body to add to his forest territory.

The heavy door slid from Shiro's grasp, swinging closed slowly on silent hinges, as he watched the werepanther gently close the child's eyes. His heart felt heavy even as anger lit a fire in his chest. Looking at the silent cat, he could see his feelings reflected tenfold in the man's eyes.

Grimmjow looked up at the Caster and his twin, his face calm and unfeeling while an outraged inferno danced behind his eyes, making them seemingly glow with a malevolent light. Slowly, calmly, he stood to his full hight, the small figure still clutched tightly to his chest in his thickly corded arms. He turned about and carefully descended the stairs. Sure strides carried him across the yard and over the barrier.

The twin's followed behind him, confused and not understanding. "Grimm?" Ichigo asked softly, his voice cracking slightly with a million different emotions, most of which he couldn't name. That little girl didn't deserve to die, especially in the way she had. He couldn't push away the feeling that this was what her killers had intended to happen; they had wanted the girl to die in front of them. They had known that Grimmjow would find her early with the next morning. "Grimmjow, where are you going?" He asked softly, grabbing his brother's pale hand as they walked side by side behind the seemingly driven cat.

The werepanther remained quiet as he padded through the forest, his bare human form never registering the cold or the light drizzle of rain that pattered the dead leaves on the forest floor. The Caster's question was answered when the decrepit, shadowed structure of the feline's temple came into view.

Without hesitation, Grimmjow strode through the overgrown courtyard, passing between the rows of sentry like statues and up the large tiers. He crossed the threshold, striding directly to his pristine throne where he finally stopped. Tilting his head to the side slightly, the feline regarded the small body in his arms for a moment, then he set the dead child down in his throne. The tiny form lay across the seat of it, not even filling the large structure. Grimmjow pulled the tarp like cloth over her still, pale face and turned back to face the men that had followed him there.

Before their eyes, the werecat's rounded pupils lengthened as the blue iris took on a more feral, chilling look. His heavily muscled body seemed to elongate before tan skin disappeared beneath shimmering, blue black fur. He bared his teeth in the first hints of the enraged anguish he was feeling and calmly strode passed Shiro and Ichigo.

The twins turned to follow him, knowing he was out for blood but unable to bring themselves to try to stop him. Ichigo looked back over his shoulder at the small figure swathed in blood and dirt stained cloth, laying across the throne of twisted bone and grimaced. It seemed a bad omen for the stray wolves that had murdered the child.

Grimmjow paused at the arched door way of his temple while the humans quickly caught up to him. Not trusting his voice at the moment, he took a deep whiff of the scents around him and nodded slightly as he caught wind of the silver gun and ammo the near-albino always carried with him.

The resurrected werepanther took off with long strides that quickly devoured the ground before him. His keen ears picked up the soft curses of the humans he left behind as they ran after him. Grimmjow quickly out paced them, knowing that they would be safe enough in his territory and armed with Shiro's silver and Ichigo's magic. They weren't defenseless like the child had been, the pathetic wolves wouldn't dare to touch them.

Glacial eyes scanned the seemingly barren forest as his nostrils flared, taking in the scents around him. A fresh trail reeking of mutt wafted to him and the feline sped off in the direction it came from, uncaring of how many wolves could be attached to the scent trail. His silent, swift sprint carried him to the other end of his territory, bordering with Lobos territory. The scent grew stronger, more pungent as he quickly neared the source, driving him forward with a deep need to taste canine blood.

A wolf came into view; a decent sized stray with a mangy brown coat and yellow eyes. Then another entered his line of sight, bigger than the first and still Grimmjow raced toward them. Soon, he counted a half dozen and didn't bother to slow his charge. With a snarling roar that shattered the calm of the morning air around him, the werepanther lunged at the first wolf.

His momentum and smaller weight was enough to send the hapless monster to the ground. It's companions stared in motionless, stunned shock and horror as Grimmjow tore into the beast. His fangs sank deep into the soft flesh around the mutt's throat as his claws dug furrows through it's muscled chest and abdomen. Squeezing his jaws, Grimmjow snarled his fury and jerked his head back. The wolf hadn't even had time to whimper and now gurgled and wheezed below him as he swung crazed eyes to the next closest beast. Blood bubbled and dripped down his chin as he climbed to his feet and launched himself again.

The group of mongrels finally gathered their wits enough to stir as he struck the second wolf. The beast had turned toward him as the werepanther had attacked and it staggered backward under the sheer force of his charge.

It grappled with the cat, baring curved fangs and flattening it's ears in threat, but it's yellow eyes showed it's fear and Grimmjow fed upon that fear. In his enraged state, he hardly realized it was his roaring and snarling that drowned out the cries of the wolf before him, not that he cared.

La Pantera had a far reaching and well earned reputation for being a destructive force of fury and power. And this morning, Grimmjow would once again live up to his name. It was a silent promise to a dead child, brought forth in every sound of seething anger he forced passed the canine blood filling mouth.

The wolf's snarling quickly shifted to a yelp as feline fangs sank deep into the forearm it had tried blocking the cat with. Sharp and cruel; those fangs cut through muscle like a knife and scraped against bone before Grimmjow pulled back, tearing a good chunk with him. The chuck of flesh fell from his maw as he snapped his jaws closed at the mangy muzzle in front of him.

••••••

Ichigo and Shiro trotted in the direction their feline housemate had gone, listening and looking for signs of where he had gone but Grimmjow was as silent as the creature he took the form of. They neared their mansion like home but continued on. Grimmjow had been in his resurrection and after wolf blood. Common sense told them they wouldn't find him there.

As the twins ran by the clearing that their house sat in, a disturbing, hate filled roar shattered the sky, the light rain doing nothing to dampen the seething anger in the growling. The deep voice was unmistakably feline. The rage Grimmjow's voice carried was palpable and the humans pushed their pace into an all out run.

Seconds ticked by like hours and the forest came to life with the panicked yipping and snarling of werewolves. Still, enraged howls sang through the chorus of other sounds.

The creatures came into view as Grimmjow grappled with his third wolf and the brothers slowed to a halt as they stared after the enraged feline and his victims. Already, two wolves lay dead on the ground and they watched as Grimmjow sank his claws into the wolf he was now grappling with.

Another wolf leapt into the fray, coming to the aid of it's companion. The wolf landed a heavy blow to the werecat's exposed ribcage under the arm that he had the other wolf pinned with.

Grimmjow grunted and bared his red stained teeth as he spun in response to the attack, flinging the wolf he was holding onto away. Large, hooked talon like claws swiped across the mutt's snout and down the side of it's thick neck. The beast jerked away from the assault but snarled and dove back in at the werepanther.

Grimmjow dodged to the side, avoiding the larger beast's attack. He quickly had his feet under him and sprang at the already injured wolf he had been working on. The creature was taken by surprise, still trying to catch it's breath, and was driven to the ground under the furious werecat.

Dark eyes watched the mayhem unfold as the feline deidad decimated his ranks with a brutal, wild abandon. It became clear the strays of his still forming pack were no match for the feline and Baraggan took a careful step backward, not wanting to alarm the cat of his presence.

He had expected some form of retaliation. One didn't nail a child to a tree in someone's front yard and think they could just get away with it. Especially not when a powerful being was involved. But Baraggan hadn't expected...this. If he were being honest, he hadn't expected the feline to do anything at all for at least a few days. The old male knew of the cat's past and knew how seeing a human child die like that would effect him, he had been counting on quick, burning despair to push Grimmjow over the edge. It seemed that the werecat had disregarded his warning.

Movement amongst the trees drew the old wolf's attention and he looked passed the battle quickly turning to a massacre to where the feline's human pets had finally made an appearance. As much as he despised admitting to being out done, Baraggan had no desire to end his life just yet. He may have been tempted to dish out punishment to the cat and deliver his warning in less words, but throw in a rare Caster of unknown but seemingly powerful ability and an Undead that carried silver and the older male knew when to throw in his cards.

"Come, Kenpachi. I think it would be best to leave now." He said in a low voice, glancing over at the big man.

A crazed grin was smeared across Kenpachi's face, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he watched the enraged werepanther he had been wanting a rematch against. "I don't know, this looks too good to pass up" The human said, mirth in his tone.

"Yes, if you want to be shot again" The increasingly nervous werewolf said, backing further away as the overcast sun glinted off twin, silver hand guns on the other side of the battle.

Kenpachi sneered but nodded in agreement as he watched skilled hands pull the guns from their holsters at the pale man's sides. Together, they slowly backed away and disappeared into the shadowy forest, the patter of rain covering the sounds of their retreat.

Grimmjow's chest heaved as he spun toward the sound of yet another snarling wolf. A different mutt came at him while he had his back turned, throwing his smaller form to the ground. The beast landed atop him, knocking the air from his lungs but he hardly cared. He lashed out, snarling and snapping his fury and hatred as blood welled to the surface on the wolf as well as on himself. Grimmjow locked his jaws around the snout of the wolf above him, keeping the creature from inflicting damage with it's fangs. He tore at the beast with his claws as it tried desperately to pull away from him.

The scent riding the air told the feline more wolves were on their way, but he didn't have time to process the smells and didn't know how much time he had. He hardly realized they were there and only really picked up on them out of instinct driven habit. The sword slash from the previous day stung as the thin, new skin split under the abuse he was dealing to his healing body but even that went unnoticed.

Grimmjow didn't know how long had passed, but the wolf above him shuttered before collapsing fully and stilling. Blood pooled below him, most of it the wolf's but not all. A sickening, wet thump announced the cause of death as the disemboweled monster's entreals fell to the leaf littered ground.

The werepanther pulled himself out from under the carcass, grunting with the effort. He quickly climbed to his feet, adrenalin and rage fueling him and keeping the weariness out of his limbs. Grimmjow readied himself in a defensive crouch, but was met with silence. He slowly spun about, finding a hapless, injured werewolf that was attempting to drag it's self away on what had to be a shattered leg and pelvis.

"Grimm"

Grimmjow attacked. He landed on the wolf, closing merciless and unforgiving teeth around the back of the beast's neck. It whimpered and howled in pain and fear but would find no pity. The feline shredded it's back and shoulder muscles while the deadly jaws continued to squeeze and work around to the front of it's throat, where they finally sank into softer flesh.

"Grimmjow!" A hand reached out and touched his heaving shoulder and the cat released his hold on the dying wolf and spun around, his cold eyes filled with an unquenchable anger.

Ichigo and Shiro stood beside him, their eyes wide as they stared at the blood and gore covered werepanther. The slight fear that swirled in gold and brown finally brought Grimmjow back to the present and broke his rage. His muscles began trembling from exertion and the hatred in his cool gaze died away, replaced by something softer, something sad and apologetic.

He opened his mouth to speak. What he was going to say was a mystery to even himself, but his jaw snapped shut and he bared his red tinted fangs as the smell of the coming wolves filled his nostrils again. He pushed the human twins behind him, nearly knocking them to the ground with the quickness and strength of the protective gesture, and took up another crouch as several large and hulking figures came into view.

His tail lashed back in forth in jerky, irritated motions, making his agitation plain and obvious for all to see. Ears pinned back to lay flat against his skull, Grimmjow let a deep hissing growl reverberate the air around them.

••••••

Starrk signaled for his hunting party to slow their pace. The sounds of battle were dying off. The blood of stray werewolves and the smell of fear tainted the air in a thick, metallic scent. The Alpha wolf wondered at what could have incurred the werepanther's wrath. This would serve as a strong reminder to himself and his pack; Grimmjow may lay dormant at most times, but he was still far from tame and more powerful than most would believe a fallen to be.

The signature smell of a Caster sifted through the cloying scent of blood to his nose and Starrk cringed slightly. He spared a glance to his left, where is second padded by his side.

Nnoitra curled his lip at the sound of the human's voice calling the feline's name. He was at once relieved and filled with trepidation to know that the man had survived whatever had just occurred. He had no desire to tangle with the powerful Caster or the other human Grimmjow had befriended, and yet he knew this massacre would be far from over if either man had been killed.

They padded through the trees until the feline and his companions came into view, where Starrk signaled for the rest to halt and wait for his commands.

The two men stood before the cat, looking up at him, their body posture showing submission; fear even. As he watched, Grimmjow's seething anger seemed to drain from his being and face as he looked down at them and he began to visibly relax until Starrk and his group's presence were noticed. The feline almost forcefully pushed the two men behind him, instantly going into a protective and battle ready crouch that showed he wasn't in the mood to play.

Starrk took a few strides toward the menacing feline, his faction stayed still and at the ready like he had bid them, trusting his judgement and commands. He let his stormy grey eyes roam over the surrounding battle field for a moment before returning his attention back to the cat in front of him.

He quickly counted seven dead wolves scattered about. Each lay in a pool of it's own life blood, grievous wounds showing on all. Grimmjow had not been kind or swift with the death he had delivered.

Grimmjow stood off to the side of where the main slaughter had occurred, near the most recent of his kills. The dead wolf lay still twitching and body still cooling in the chill rain at his feet. Cuts and gashes marred the feline, covering his chest and arms. A particularly large slash ran the entire length of his abdomen in a diagonal sweep, it wept and seeped with each breath he took. His chest heaved, though he did well to hide his fatigue and still looked to have plenty of energy to enter battle.

Ferocity and threat showed in every hard line of muscle upon the cat but the truth swirled in deep, azure pools. Grimmjow's rage had been played out, he was out of fight no matter how aggressive he looked and Starrk nodded, dropping his own battle ready stance in favor of something a little friendlier looking.

The feline's ears swiveled to face forward and he hid his bared fangs behind blood stained lips but didn't leave his ready stance. Curiosity played across feline features for a moment, but was gone in an instant when the two humans behind him shifted in their own nervousness. The werewolf leader felt power being drawn from the air and the tell tale scent of magic tinted the air ever so slightly as the Caster drew his power closer to his person, readying to attack or defend if need be.

"Starrk." The greeting was growled out between clenched teeth, making the feline's unhappy disposition obvious to all around.

The Alpha heard his small group shift about, tensing and readying to react to any move the agitated cat made. He watched Grimmjow's eyes flick passed his form, assessing his hunting faction and their level of threat to himself and his humans before settling back on Starrk's figure.

"Grimmjow." Starrk carefully greeted back with a slight nod of his head. Before he had a chance to question what had happened, the feline cut him off.

"There is a rogue plotting to over throw you."

Starrk's second growled and stepped forward, taking his place by his leaders side at the admission of the conspiracy. "I knew ya should have let me kill the traitor." Nnoitra growled out.

"It's not news to me that the traitor had plans to attempt taking my throne." Starrk said, ignoring what his second had said. He watched as Grimmjow sneered in response.

"Perhaps you'd like to know he attempted to enlist my help." Grimmjow told the wolf leader, his eyes never straying from the unpredictable second at his side. "He also found a formidable human to help him."

Starrk was quiet a moment as he wrapped his mind around what the cat told him. Obviously Grimmjow had declined the offer. Starrk was in no way stupid, he quickly put the pieces together and realized that this killing had to have been associated with the cat's refusal to help the traitorous male. He was curious as to why the feline would take his answer to this extreme though and wanted to know about this human that sided with Baraggan.

"Another Caster?" He asked, his grey eyes drifting over the humans still standing a few feet behind their feline companion. Beside him, he saw as Nnoitra tense up and his lips peel away from glistening fangs.

Grimmjow stiffened as well, baring his own teeth toward the hulking second in warning before he answered Starrk. "No." A slight grimace passed over the cat's features, hardly noticeable to those not looking for it. "But he does use a very...odd silver and a sword. Strange human. Watch yourself, Starrk."

The werepanther took a step back, watching the black wolf at Starrk's side before he turned to leave. He nudged Ichigo and Shiro, keeping them in front of him while they had their backs to the wolves.

"Grimmjow." Starrk's deep voice called out to halt the retreating werepanther. Grimmjow turned to look at him with a questioning glance. The Caster and the Undead looked over their shoulders at him; warm, brown eyes were wide and odd, gold on black ones were narrowed with suspicion. He cautiously approached the feline and his humans, making sure Nnoitra stayed behind.

"I would like to thank you for the warning...and dealing with...these" Starrk waved a hand carelessly through the air toward the dead strays littering the area.

Grimmjow nodded and made to leave again.

"I would also like to make you and your" The Alpha looked to the humans standing slightly behind the werepanther. "companions an offer." He made sure to keep his words loud enough for the group of wolves accompanying him to hear. Starrk wanted to show his confidence as well as his sincerity in what he was going to ask of the cat and his allies. "I would like to call a truce, at the very least. Preferably an alliance."

Grimmjow seemed to hesitate, a look of incredulity flashing on feline features.

"I do not wish to pull you, any of you, into my personal war. However, in this era, I don't see any reason for us to continue being enemies." Starrk knew of Grimmjow's instinctive hate of wolves, he understood that well enough, but he knew the feline was intelligent and would choose what made the most logical sense. They had been rivals for years untold but only in word. In action and person, they had ceased being enemies long ago. All that was left was for one of them to voice it aloud for the rest of his Pack to hear. Now that the Pack was truly his again, he planned to make sure it stayed that way and things would be run as he wanted them to be. The wolves and the feline could only gain from an official pact.

Beside the cat, the orange haired Caster gently touched Grimmjow's arm, drawing his attention. The feline tilted his head toward the man, keeping his body angled toward the wolves while he listened to what the man had to say.

Ichigo stood on his tip toes to be closer to Grimmjow's level in his larger werepanther form. "I think we should agree" He said, keeping his voice low enough so that the wolves wouldn't be able to hear him.

Grimmjow's eyes widened slightly and Shiro spoke from his other side. "I think King's right. The monster tha'...killed the little girl already proved he's ganna give us trouble. What could it hurt ta accept?" He shrugged, tucking his guns back into the holsters.

The werecat looked from Ichigo to Shiro before giving in and agreeing with them. He had never needed to fear Starrk, they had always had an understanding. He turned back to Starrk, stepping close to the Pack leader. "You have a deal." He said, extending his clawed hand. "But if any of your mutts touch either of them..."

Starrk clasped the feline's smaller hand in a rather human show of acceptance and understanding. "The Pack will be informed of our new allies and will not harm your humans." Starrk said with a faint smile.

"Oi, we have names ya know!" Shiro spoke up from behind the werecat.

The Alpha's smile grew and his deep baritone chuckle emanated around the trees. "Yes, I suppose you do. I'm Starrk, as I'm sure you've figured out." The leader waved Nnoitra forward. "And this is my second, Nnoitra. When I'm not around, he leads."

The larger wolf curled his lip slightly but nodded his head in a friendly enough gesture to both of the men as he stepped forward and back to Starrk's side.

The cat gave a short laugh, his voice filled with amusement when he spoke. "Still upset over that eye?"

The wolf growled and the Caster elbowed Grimmjow in the ribs. "Grimm, that doesn't help." He said to the cat, then turned his attention back to the werewolves. "I'm Ichigo. This is my brother, Shirosaki."

"Ya can call me Shiro." The near-albino said.

"A pleasure, Ichigo, Shiro." Starrk said politely. He nodded to Grimmjow; an old rival and now a new friend. Unfortunately, he had matters to attend to back at his den and preparations to make for a certain traitorous wolf.

Grimmjow turned around, guiding his human companions with him, and headed back toward their home. Their business was done for now.

••••••

The rain had remained a light, miserable drizzle throughout the whole of the walk back to the ancient temple sanctified in the name of La Pantera. It pattered upon the dried leaves and turned the dirt below them to mud. While only being mid day, the sun rode low in the sky as was normal with the time of year and the clouds shaded everything in a dismal grey befitting the sullen mood.

Grimmjow crossed the threshold of his temple and shook the water from his fur. He heard Ichigo and Shiro follow him into the main chamber but they remained silent. As he knew it would be, the child's body lay untouched where he had rested it on the seat of his throne. Linked as he was to his throne, the werecat had been able to feel her tiny weight upon it while he had been hunting and killing the mutts responsible for her death. He bent to retrieve the wrapped bundle of canvass, cradling the girl as if she were only sleeping. It was only once he could feel her small weight in his arms that the small presence in his mind dissipated.

They couldn't return her body to her family. Grimmjow knew what they would likely find if they tried. A group of stray mongrels had raided her home to send him a message, there would be no one left alive and no one to look for the child.

He left the sheltered dome of the temple, striding out into the rain, Ichigo and Shiro following closely. Finally, the Caster's curiosity got the better of him.

"Where...where are you going to put her?" Ichigo asked, his voice hardly above a whisper as if afraid to brake the silence that had wrapped around them. He pulled his robes tighter to fend off the chill air. It was a long moment before he received an answer.

"I have to find a place" Grimmjow answered quietly as he concentrated on long gone memories. The land around them still remembered those times, still remembered the bodies that had fed it and given it life. There were so many bodies.

"Ya have ta find a place?" Shiro's watery voice asked the question both he and Ichigo had been thinking.

"Yes" The werepanther all but whispered. "A place she'll fit amongst all the others." When he had buried his dead followers, he had buried an entire people. He had been worshiped by many. Thousands had given their lives and their deaths to he and his forest.

The feline stopped walking, water streaming through his fur and dripping from his body, and tilted his head slightly. His tail swayed slowly back and forth behind him as he glanced at the ground surrounding them. He gently lowered the small, frail body to the ground and began digging.

It didn't take him long. The grave didn't need to be very large. Soon, a fresh mound of earth stood out amongst the rest of the mostly flat ground around the area. It sat beneath a small, still growing tree that only stood a few feet taller than Grimmjow himself did. It was the only tree in the forest that still clung to the last of it's leaves and as he finished smoothing the top of the fresh grave a brilliant, red leaf fell to lay across it like a marker.

The feline slowly stood, finally releasing his resurrection and the three of them made their way back through the forest, nothing but their quiet footsteps and the rain to break the silence.

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><p><strong>Your reviews and comments always inspire me so let me know what you think!<br>**


	12. Chapter 12

**It's only been forever since this story was last updated, for that I'm sorry ^^; I'm also not terribly happy with this chapter, but it's as good as it's going to get and I'm ready to get it out of the way.**

**Try to enjoy anyway~  
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><p>Dark eyes widened with incredulity, a single brow raising as she cocked a slim hip and continued to stare at the red head. "You're kidding, right?"<p>

"No, Rukia." Renji ignored her attitude and went about his morning duties. "They'll be here later. They've both seemed really down lately, it'll be good for them to get out of the house for a while."

Rukia huffed and crossed her arms. She knew Renji was right and she knew why the twins had been in such a dark mood the past few days. Seeing that child in the werewolf's arms had been terrible enough. She couldn't begin to imagine how they had felt after they found the poor girl. The petite woman was still unsure why the monster and that man with the spiked hair were out to get Ichigo and Shiro, though she had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the creature they had welcomed into their home. Either way, she planned to get some answers soon.

"Is their... friend going to come with them?" She asked the red head. She tried to understand what the twins, especially Ichigo, saw in the creature, she really did. But she just couldn't get over the fact that he was a monster. To her, it was just as bad as having a werewolf in their house. So what if he was a little smaller and feline? He was just as dangerous, just as unpredictable. Everyone knew that wild animals didn't make good pets.

Renji paused before shrugging his shoulders lightly. "Don't know, why? Does it really matter?" He didn't understand why it should bother her so much if Grimmjow were to be with the twins. Sure, the man wasn't exactly human, but that didn't mean he was a bad guy. He seemed nice enough and Ichigo and Shiro certainly liked him. It was clear as day to the red head that the feline certainly like them, that he was protective of them and would defend them against the real monsters that lived out in the forest. That was all Renji needed to decide he could befriend the blue haired man as well.

"It should. He's a monster." Rukia muttered, unable to keep the darkness out of her tone.

"We're not getting into this right now. I'm meeting them uptown soon, I'll see you later." Renji said, not taking her bate and starting another argument. That's all they seemed to do as of late; argue. He wasn't entirely sure why they were even still living together.

The raven haired woman had been more distant and hostile toward him in the past few days than she had ever been before. If she wasn't visiting her brother, than she was trying to start an argument over something stupid or ignoring his existence. Whenever the read head tried to sit down and talk to her about their relationship, about them, she refused to admit that something was wrong and so Renji couldn't get her to talk about it. He didn't know what to do anymore and if he were honest with himself, he wasn't sure he even cared.

The red head walked out the front door, taking a last look at Rukia over his shoulder. He let his confusion and emotions show on his tattooed features and knew she wouldn't notice.

Stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his heavy jacket, Renji shivered in the chill morning air. His breath puffed out in a steamy cloud before him as he turned down the street that would lead toward the center of town and where he was meeting Shiro and Ichigo.

He was being honest when he told Rukia that he didn't know if the werepanther would be joining them. When he had talked with Ichigo, the Caster had asked if Renji would mind, but he wasn't sure he would be able to convince Grimmjow to enter the town. Apparently it had been quite some time since the feline had last set foot into such a populated area. It seemed understandable from what little he knew about the man.

Renji tilted his face toward the sky as he walked. Not a single cloud could been seen, but the sky still shown grey and the sunlight was feeble. The red head sighed, hoping he and the twins could get back to his place before it rained. He shivered again and realized that it might have been cold enough to snow rather than rain.

••••••

Ichigo peeked his head into the room on the third floor that they had officially deemed as the feline's. The door swung open on nearly silent hinges to reveal an empty room. Not really surprised, the Caster turned about and closed the door behind him. Somehow, he knew that where ever the man had gone, he was plagued with dark, conflicting thoughts. He had the strangest feeling that Grimmjow was thinking about leaving their home, about leaving them. It was like something pulsed and twitched within his mind, something that connected him with the werecat.

The bluenette had hardly said two words since burying the child. He seemed to have a lot on his mind and more than once the twins had caught him looking as though he were in deep thought, absently staring always in the direction of his temple. Whether the feline was aware of what he was doing or not was still a mystery to the two humans. Every time either had tried to approach the subject, Grimmjow brushed it off like there was nothing to talk about. He could certainly be a stubborn cat.

Now, while they were preparing to leave for town, the man had disappeared altogether. Ichigo made his way back down the hall toward the staircase. He was met by his pale copy halfway down, a wide smirk plastered on ashen features.

"You found him?" The Caster asked, genuinely starting to worry. It wasn't that he was afraid Grimmjow had gotten into trouble or that he couldn't handle himself if he had returned to his forest. It was just the thought that he really may have left. He would readily admit that he was attached to the feline and it would hurt to have him leave their home.

"Yeah, he's in the sittin' room" Shiro told his King as the two made their way down the spiral case and to the first floor.

A confused frown marred the Caster's more colorful features as he followed his brother down the hall. "I've already looked in there" He muttered, mostly to himself.

"Probably weren't lookin' in the right place, then" Shiro told him, unable to hide the grin that split his face. He placed a pale finger to his ashen lips in a shushing motion as he crept through the door way and into the room.

Frowning still, Ichigo did as he was bade and crept quietly into the room behind his copy. The curtains in the windows had been drawn against the cold, dull season, casting the room in shadow and a small fire flickered in the hearth. Ichigo let his vision wander across the chairs, his frown becoming more prominent. All the furniture about the room was unoccupied, including the plush chair the feline normally claimed for himself when the three of them were relaxing in the room.

The Caster scanned the room again. Either his twin was finally loosing his mind in earnest or he was missing something. A slight movement caught his eye from off to the side of hearth. The tip of a slim, black tail twitched again and Ichigo let his eyes follow the appendage to rest on a very large, very feline body. Grimmjow, in his four legged panther form, was curled upon the fire warmed tile, asleep. His dark fur nearly matched the dark tile and it was no wonder Ichigo hadn't noticed him at first.

A slight smile resting on his lips, Ichigo crossed the room as quietly as he could. As he approached, feline ears swiveled to follow his movements but Grimmjow made no indication of getting up. The Caster slowly lowered himself to sit cross legged on the hard tile next to the cat and tentatively ran his fingers down the big creature's neck.

The dark fur was warm and surprisingly silky under his touch. Grimmjow looked so much like a natural panther in this form it was almost scary and would have fooled anyone who hadn't seen the man before. It wasn't new to the Caster or Shiro, but neither of them really got to see the creature they had allowed into their home like this very often. He seemed to prefer his human or werecreature form over this one. The few times they had seen him take this form they had only caught glimpses while he ran through the trees.

A slight purr rumbled quietly in the panther's throat as Ichigo continued stroking the soft fur before blue eyes slit open, bright in the darkened room. The feline huffed a quiet sigh and the purr fell away to leave a thick, heavy silence in it's place.

Ichigo paused in his petting, unsure if he had upset or offended the man. Grimmjow raised his head slightly, nudging at the Caster's chest before letting it drop heavily into the human's lap, his tail curling around the man's body as he shifted slightly.

The Caster lifted his hand to hover over the big cat's head. "Can I?" He asked quietly. Grimmjow nodded his head slightly, not moving from where he had lain it and Ichigo gently rested his hand on the back of his neck again. Weaving his fingers through thick black fur, the Caster glanced up at his twin.

Shiro's expression was a mirror of Ichigo's own; his brows slightly creased and the smirk gone from his pale lips. They both knew something was off, something in the back of both humans' minds had told them the feline was deep in thought as soon as his short lived, soft purr had been cut off by the heavy sigh.

The near-albino lowered himself to sit on the floor in front of the Caster and looked the large panther over, taking in his body language and far away look. "Ya ganna tell us wha's wrong, Grimm?" Shiro asked, his lilting voice quiet in the silent room.

A deep rumble left the feline's throat; not quite a growl but certainly not a purr. Black ears flicked and stunning, feline eyes rose to pin the ghostly human in place.

"Tha's not good 'nough, we don't speak 'kitty cat'" The words were taunting, but Shiro's voice was still soft as he tried to get the cat to talk.

Black lips peeled up slightly, revealing the tips of elongated fangs while the bridge of the panther's nose wrinkled at what the pale man had called him. With another soft sigh, the werecat finally decided to speak his mind. "Just thinking..."

The feline's voice was a deep rumble that Ichigo could feel through his pants where Grimmjow was pressed against him. The tail curled around him twitched as the werepanther continued.

"I put you in danger by being here." Grimmjow stated, his unearthly blue eyes drifting away from Shiro and off to the side. "I don't want anything to happen to the two of you because of me, because of the mutts."

Ichigo frowned, his customary scowl pulled at his features as he continued to gently run his fingers over Grimmjow's broad shoulders and thick neck. "You think they'll go against their word?"

"No. You've nothing to fear from Starrk, he's a man of his word." Grimmjow elaborated. Starrk would stick to what he had said when they had agreed to being on friendly terms. The Pack wouldn't lay a claw on he or his humans. Even should something happen to himself, Ichi and Shiro would be safe around the Pack. "but I cannot say the same for the strays..."

The rogue original that was after Starrk's throne was unpredictable. He had already gone so far as to kill an innocent child, enlist the help of at least one human of decent power and had even tried to persuade Grimmjow to help him. It was more than clear to the werecat that this wolf would do whatever it took, and that made him hard to predict. The mongrel had no code, no sense of honor or right and wrong.

"We don' want ya ta leave." Shiro said sternly, seeing where the cat's line of thinking was headed. It didn't matter to him that they may be in danger by having Grimmjow live with them. They could handle a few wolves. And even if Grimmjow were to leave, nothing said the traitorous werewolf wouldn't still come after them just to get at the cat.

The near-albino knew King felt the same way. His orange haired counter part was just as enamored with the blue haired creature as he was, if not even more so. Neither would want the man they had come to care about to leave, even if he was trying to protect them.

"You don't want me to, but what if they attack and you get caught in the middle of it?" Black ears swiveled back to lay flat against the panther's skull, the edges flashing an almost tealish color in the flickering light of the small fire. He moved one of his paws to lay next to his head across Ichigo's lap in an almost protective way. "I...I can't bury either of you... That can't..."

"What if they attack and you're not here?" Ichigo's question cut through the feline's thoughts and his words died in his throat. In a way, Shiro and Ichigo were safer by keeping Grimmjow around.

Feline features seemed to pull downward into an angry frown before Grimmjow snarled and revealed white, gleaming fangs to the darkness of the room around them. Of course, should the wolves attack while the human's were at home, the mutts wouldn't be able to get through the barrier. But Baraggan already knew of the seal, he wasn't stupid. Not many creatures lived to be the rogue's age while being stupid. He would attack them while they were outside of the barrier or send his human partner in. Ichigo and Shiro seemed far to soft when it came to facing another human, they would hesitate and it would cost them.

Grimmjow snarled again, all thoughts of leaving to try to keep the Caster and Undead safe gone out the window and floating away on the chilly breeze. He would stay and any creature that dare lay a hand on either of the humans would feel his wrath. He was pulled from his thoughts by a hand trying to wrap around his large paw and the Caster's voice.

"Grimm...Ouch, that hurts..." Ichigo winced as he gently tugged on the cat's paw that had been resting on his thigh. Whatever Grimmjow had been thinking about had apparently not settled well with the feline and he had tensed up, claws unsheathing and beginning to dig into his flesh.

The claws quickly retracted and Grimmjow, still in his four-legged form head butted the Caster's chest in a very feline show of affection and apology. Both Ichigo and Shiro laughed at the display coming from the once deidad and the near albino couldn't help but taunt the cat.

"D'awww...ain't tha' cute" He said between chuckling.

A slim black tail lashed at the air in a couple of irritated motions before the large feline jumped away from Ichigo too quickly for the Caster to realize what was happening. Grimmjow nocked Shiro to the floor, one paw on either side of his head while he hovered over the pale human. Liquid, golden eyes widened in surprise before they squeezed shut as Shiro laughed so hard he almost had tears running down his pale features.

Grimmjow huffed an irritated breath before a slight smirk worked it's way onto his feline lips. A slight wince flashed across his face, interrupting his smirk and shining through brilliant blue before the grin was back in full force. The small fire danced wildly, nearly blowing out before it settled into a more natural pattern again. Thick, dark fur shimmered in the flickering light as it slowly peeled away and was replaced by sun bronzed and smooth skin.

"What's so funny, human?" Grimmjow purred at the near albino. Thickly corded arms kept him perched to hover above the pale human, his shoulders and back tensed to hold his weight, one hand on either side of Shiro's head still.

Shiro snorted another laugh and whipped at his eyes before prying them open to reply. Golden orbs flashed in the flickering light, haunting in their intensity, as the man drank up the sight hovering over him.

A light dusting of color shading the Caster's features, Ichigo watched his brother reach up and hook his arm around the back of the now very human looking and naked bluenette's neck. The already great view of the man's backside got even better as Grimmjow allowed his upper body to be pulled down when Shiro threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and tugged. Warm, pale lips slanted over full, pink ones in a simple kiss that was quickly turning heated.

The Caster climbed to his feet. "We... should probably get going if we plan to meet Renji..."

Shiro groaned his disappointment but let the feline pull away and stand up. He climbed to his own feet, taking the bluenette's offered hand. "Alright, King. Ya ready?" He asked Ichigo, brushing himself off a little.

"Of course" Ichigo smiled and turned toward Grimmjow. "You're coming with us, right? Renji invited you as well"

Before Grimmjow could deny the offer, Shiro spoke up, a devious smirk stretched across his face. "'course he is, we might get ambushed by werewolves on the way er somethin'"

A smile stretched across Ichigo's face, nearly a match to the one on his brother's as he watched the feline's blue brow's scrunch into an irritated and unhappy scowl.

The man knew Shiro had only said that to trick him into going with them. He knew they could more than likely handle whatever stray mutt they might have crossed, but after his thoughts had been centering around that very thing for the past couple days, he couldn't quite find it in him to not agree. With a slight curling of his upper lip, Grimmjow muttered a quick "fine." and crossed his arms over his muscled chest.

The twins led the way out the door, locking it behind them. They stuffed the few items they were bringing with them into a saddle bag and mounted their horses. Grimmjow walked off into the forest, unbothered by the season's cold air, and disappeared as the two human's guided their nervous beasts to the path that would lead them to town.

••••••

Peeking through parted curtains, Rukia watched Renji shrink into the distance before he was lost altogether in the small crowd of people. She waited a few more minutes, just to be safe, then trotted down the hallway of their reasonably sized, two bedroom house to grab her things.

The petite woman shrugged into a heavy coat and pulled the hood over her head before shouldering her small pack. She poked her head out the door and looked for Renji one last time before leaving and closing it behind herself.

The cold in the air spoke of coming snow as Rukia hurried down the street. She took deserted back alleyways and small side streets, further insuring she wouldn't bump into Renji or either of the twins by chance as she traversed the town. She ignored the few people she passed by and they returned the favor. She quickly found the location she had been looking for, though now that she knew where it was, it wasn't hard to find.

Taking another inconspicuous look around, the raven haired woman entered the small weapons shop. The bell above the door dinged as it slowly swung shut behind her, clattering about and announcing her arrival. When she didn't receive a greeting or acknowledgement of any type, Rukia hesitantly made her way through the shop.

She passed by rows of hand guns, shot guns, cases of ammunition for high and low caliber weapons. A myriad of hunting, dressing and utility knives of various sizes and shapes hung from pegs and sat on shelves lining the walls. Fancier blades and more expensive guns filled glass cases near the counter, right next to a small stock of various types of candy. Odd, but who was she to judge?

Quietly making her way to the front counter, Rukia found the building seemingly empty. No other customers wandered the isles and the register was left unattended. The building was silent and daunting, as if it were holding it's breath or hiding a secret. She leaned over the counter and peered behind it, looking at the floor for some reason even she didn't know and then tried to look down the hallway that led away from the storefront.

She took one last glance around the empty shop before edging around the counter and sneaking into the opening of the hallway, where she paused to listen again. When she didn't hear anything; no alarms, chimes, footsteps or voices, the woman crept down the dark and narrow hall.

From a shadowed corner of the store, up near the front window and hidden in plain sight, a pair of warm grey eyes followed the small intruder's movements. A kind smile stretched across the man's features as he tipped his green striped hat and climbed to his feet with the aid of a silver cane. Leaving the shadows the shop owner had concealed himself in, he silently walked over to the front door, turned the lock and flipped the open sign around to say closed before quietly making his way back around the counter and following after the oblivious woman.

Pulling a fan from the sleeve of his jacket, Urahara hid his grin as he came to stand nearly directly behind the raven haired woman as she tried to decide whether to open the door to the underground level or not. "Why hello, there" He said in his singsong voice, fan waving slightly before his face as he tapped her shoulder.

Rukia nearly jumped out of her skin and spun around so fast she almost fell. The man before her certainly didn't look threatening and she placed a small hand over her heart while she let her nerves calm down, violet eyes wide as she stared up at him.

"A little lost, are you?" Urahara asked, his smile showing in his friendly voice.

"Uhh...I was just, um..." Rukia stuttered, looking for an excuse to give the mysterious shopkeeper. He seemed friendly and genuine enough but something told her all was not as it seemed. A determined expression settled on her features and she looked back up at him, standing as tall as her petite frame would allow. She was here for a reason and she wouldn't get answers if she didn't try. "No. I'm in the right place."

The fan disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, seemingly out of no where, and the shopkeeper smiled down at her, a glint of mischief in his shadowed grey eyes. "I thought you might be"

Urahara stepped passed her, leaning his cane against the wall before bending to open the cellar like doors in the floor. Cool air wafted to them from below, alive and swimming with unseen activities; nothing like the empty and silent shop above. "Come then, Rukia. We may as well get started"

Rukia frowned as he said her name. She knew she had never told it to this man. She studied him carefully before following his gesture to proceed him down to the lower level of the shop. As she descended the stairs, he followed her and closed the doors behind them, plunging the entrance in an ominous darkness.

••••••

The clouds had steadily thickened and darkened as the three traversed the forest path, casting the sky and visible horizon in a dismal grey. The colorless, lifeless trees only added to the bleak, shrouded appearance and announced that winter was on their heels. The horses' breaths created plumes of warm mist in the cool air before them and Ichigo and Shiro both sat and shivered on their respective animal, hunched over and leaning close the animals' thick necks and pulling their cloaks tight about themselves. The beasts snorted and side stepped in time as Grimmjow showed himself, his taller wereform allowing him to look at the horses at eye level with ease. The feline glanced at the nervous animals before dismissing them and looking forward once more as the humans slowed them to a walk. The fence marking the village limits stood not far up ahead; dismal and deserted this near the forest at this time of year.

His senses told him a couple of small stray creatures lurked the dead forest near by, most likely hoping for a lone human to wander too close to the forest's edge. There was nothing to fear as they seemed more wary than curious about the travelers and accompanying predator and kept their distance from the potentially dangerous group.

"I will await you here" Grimmjow spoke up, his slim black tail swaying back and forth behind him and his thick fur slightly ruffled from the cool breeze. He took a step back toward the tree line when Shiro's stallion brayed and tossed it's mane at the sound of his deep voice.

"Nah, yer comin' wit' us" The pale human said, tugging at his reins gently to keep his nervous horse in control. It stamped but heeded it's rider and let it's big eyes roll to follow the bluenette.

Grimmjow raised a brow and tilted his head to the side in doubt before slipping from his resurrection and into his human form. He shivered ever so slightly as his bare skin hit the chill air and turned to look at the men, a blank look on his handsome features.

"We already planned for that" Ichigo said sheepishly as he turned where he sat and dug around in his saddle bag. He pulled a bundle of folded cloth from it and tossed it the naked bluenette.

Grimmjow caught the bundle and sighed in easy defeat. He had had a feeling he would be forced to accompany the humans into their village and really wasn't surprised that they would even plan for his argument.

He unfolded the clothing and wasn't pleased when he found a pair of those tight jeans the humans wore and a shirt, complete with a jacket and shoes. He raised a brow and gave the Caster a very unamused look.

"You would stand out rather badly if you walked around in this cold in just a pair of gym shorts." Ichigo shrugged. A small smirk tilted his lips as he looked down at the werepanther. He didn't understand how the man wasn't freezing already.

Grimmjow sneered but started to slip into the constricting clothing. If he had to be honest, he was curious about the village and it's occupants. It had been a very long time since he had last visited a human town, since his followers had been killed. He had never had the desire to mingle with humans after the War and had lived in the forest in solitude. It seemed these two human men were awakening all kinds of new desires within him.

As he finished donning the form fitting clothing, he shifted about where he stood uncomfortably, not enjoying how constrained he felt, and glared at Ichigo and Shiro. Oh the things he put himself through for these men. He would have never been caught dead in human clothes before he met these two. The werepanther sighed again and continued to glare at his humans, his lip curling in his unhappiness.

Ichigo smiled as he looked over the man. The clothes could have been a bit looser, as it was now they clung to his muscular form a little tightly. The Caster knew the feline wasn't happy about it, he liked having more freedom of movement than the clothing offered but it was hard to find things that would fit the big man and the tight fit certainly didn't look bad.

"You look good" He said, turning to see what his brother thought. Shiro was still studying the bluenette, a mock thoughtful expression on his pale face. He rubbed at his chin and cocked his head to the side, some of his long, colorless hair falling out of his hood to lay across his shoulder, before finally speaking.

"Not bad, but ya look better naked" A wide, lecherous grin broke out across pale lips and the albino nudged his horse into motion again, pulling his hood down and tying his hair up to keep it out of his way. The beast snorted and began walking toward the gates of the village. He pulled the hood of his fur lined cloak back over his head to hide his ghostly features better as they neared and the sounds of people began to grow louder.

Grimmjow walked beside the humans and their horses as they entered, taking in the sights, sounds and smells that quickly surrounded them. Ichigo and Shiro dismounted and walked their animals behind them, keenly aware of the extra attention they were being accorded by having the strange, blue haired man with them. As they made their way through the streets, the small crowds parted to allow the group through, whispering and pointing in their wake.

"You at it again, Kurosaki?" An anonymous voice taunted, yelling above the din of the small crowds. Shiro whirled around, his protective anger flaring and making his haunting eyes flash with threat. His hood slipped with the movement and he tugged it back into place as King grabbed his hand and pulled him along, ignoring the few comments that seemed to stand out amongst the rest of the noise.

"There's no point in letting them anger you, Shiro." Ichigo said softly. They had known bringing Grimmjow along would most likely stir up more trouble than they usually had to deal with. It wasn't everyday someone like the bluenette walked around the small village and more than likely, the citizens could tell he was something different, even if it was on a small, instinctive level that they didn't even notice.

They approached the large library in the center of town and Ichigo handed the reins of his own horse to his colorless copy before digging the books he had borrowed out of the saddle bag. It seemed like he had checked them out so long ago, when in reality it had only been a couple of weeks. Everything seemed to be moving so fast now that Grimmjow had joined them. He considered bringing the bluenette in with him, but decided against it as the woman he knew would be working would end up asking way too many questions that he wouldn't have believable answers to.

"Stay here, I'll be quick" He bade his two companions and jogged up the short staircase that led to the front door. Pushing the doors open revealed a mostly empty room. A few teenage kids sat around plush chairs talking rather than reading, but Ichigo didn't see anyone else, for which he was thankful. Hopefully this would be a quick visit and they would be able to find Renji before their presence drew any drastic and unwanted attention.

"Oh, hello Kurosaki, sir!" A cheerful, friendly voice called out as the door chimed and announced his arrival. The auburn haired girl waved at him, a wide and delighted smile turned in his direction.

"Hey, Orihime. Just here to return these" The Caster said quietly, approaching the front desk. He set the two books on the smooth wooden surface and gently pushed them toward the busty librarian, hoping that she wouldn't try to create small talk he didn't have time for.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Orihime asked, a genuine smile settling across her features.

"Um, yeah, definitely found it." Ichigo said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. That was an understatement if he ever heard one. He sure had found what he was looking for; in the flesh and very much real and alive. Not only had he found the creature, a myth and a legend, but he and his brother had...well, there was no need for details.

His face tinted a slight shade of pink and the girl in front of him smiled as she logged the books away, oblivious to his thoughts. A commotion outside had the Caster wincing and he breathed out a heavy sigh. Really. Could he not take Shirosaki anywhere with him?

"Uh, well, nice seeing you" Ichigo called to her quickly as he hurried from the library. As he left the building, his eyes automatically scanned the area for white. Chocolaty brown orbs landed on his pale copy, but the sight wasn't what he had been expecting.

Instead of seeing Shiro starting trouble or goading someone into a confrontation like normal, his beloved brother was planted firmly on the ground. Shiro slowly sat up, a slight groan of mixed anger and pain escaping his lips as he gingerly reached up to place a pale, black nailed hand on the side of his head and face. White brows furrowed as the man slowly climbed to his feet.

Ichigo raced to his side, eyes wide and confused. "What happened? Are you ok?" The questions were nearly too fast for the slightly dazed albino to follow and he glanced at Ichigo before his haunting golden orbs began scanning the surrounding area.

"Yeah. 'S a good hit, though." He mumbled, seeing their horses near by, a little spooked but unharmed. He found nothing of the werepanther, however. He hadn't been expecting to be blind sided by an angry man. Someone had started yelling taunting words; something about freaks, monsters, dead people, the usual and nothing new. The next thing he knew, he was laying on the ground and a man was hovering over him, getting in his face. He had pointed a thick finger in the albino's face, screaming and cursing while his buddies cheered him on and laughed from near by.

Of course, he had been getting ready to start retaliating and kicking the man's ass for his under handed tactic, but a flash of blue had quickly ended that line of thinking.

The Caster and his copy followed the sounds of surprise and the pointing of the distracted crowd. As they threaded their way through the small but growing mob, angered, animalistic snarling began to drown out the din and the twins exchanged a glance before pushing forward with more insistence and haste. They both prayed that Grimmjow hadn't revealed himself as the werecat he truly was.

A second growl, a little quieter but just as vicious sounding permeated the air to mix with the first and orange and white brows creased in confusion. Their thoughts swirled around the worst possible scenarios as they fought through the sea of onlookers.

"Get the fuck outta my way!" Shiro yelled, a hand still pressed to the side of his face as he used his free hand to push stunned and staring people out of their way. His hood was thrown back and he couldn't care less if people got a good look at him at that moment. His watery, distorted voice and startling features did the trick and the last few rows of people spun to look at he and the Caster and moved out of the way as if they were afraid of being touched by the pair.

Two men lay on the ground, another hovered near them, kneeling and checking the state of his companions while he warily eyed the beast of a man that had defended the Undead. Grimmjow was in a ready crouch, white teeth bared and blue eyes blazing with an intense light but he was still human. The jacket he had been wearing was torn down the sleeve but the Caster couldn't see if he was injured from where he and Shiro were at.

In front of the bluenette was the second source of the snarling, not so surprisingly, the quieter source. A large hunting hound, probably owned by one of the men that had attacked Shiro, circled round the bluenette, much the way a dog would circle around a spitting house cat, waiting for the opportunity to attack.

The bluenette hissed, the deep sound rumbling through his throat. His pupils began to elongate and take on a more feline like shape but quickly rounded back out as the werecreature fought against his instincts and had the sense to stay in his human form.

Ichigo and Shiro rushed forward, the near-albino walking right up to the man that had hit him. Sneering in the man's face, he spoke up in a calm and deadly serious voice and even managed to refrain from beating the coward's ass. "Ya better call off yer dog er it's ganna end up dead."

The man backed away from Shiro, his eyes wide, but he glanced over at his hound and watched as the beast flinched and jumped back when the blue haired man stalked forward. He placed his fingers between his lips and let out a shrill whistle. The dog tucked it's tail and happily scurried away from Grimmjow to cower at it's master's side, it's eyes filled with primal fear even as it bared curved fangs at the feline.

"Ya ought ta keep yer mutt on a leash." Shiro mumbled as he joined Ichigo and swiftly made their way to Grimmjow. The man's eyes darted toward them, taking in who was approaching him before he glared daggers at the man that had hit Shiro. He began stalking toward the worthless human, his intent clear and the Caster grabbed hold of his hand. The simple gesture was enough to halt the hot tempered man, even though Ichigo wouldn't have been able to even hope to over power the werecat if the need had arisen.

"Hey! Let's not cause any more fights, yeah?" Ichigo mumbled as he started to drag the man away and toward where they had left their horses.

"He attacked Shiro." Was all Grimmjow said as he sneered in the man's direction but continued to allow the smaller man pull him away. His sharp eyes watched the coward flinch at the scathing look he had sent the man's direction before he grabbed his mutt's collar and turned to go the opposite direction they were headed.

"Yeah, but Shiro's a tough guy. He's alright" Ichigo turned to look at his brother, concern showing on his boyish features. "aren't you?"

"Tch. Yeah, I'm fine." The pale man reached up to tenderly brush at the side of his face, sure that he'd have a mark later. He wanted to give the coward that had hit him a taste of his own medicine, but the terrified look on the guys face was good enough. "King's right, Grimm. Le's just hurry an' find Red."

A low growl issued from the man's throat but he nodded and stopped sending threatening looks over his shoulder. Pausing a few feet away from his humans' horses, he waited while they neared the beasts and grabbed up the reins.

They managed to make it to their designated meeting spot with little more than whispered words following after them. Renji showed up a few minutes later, a wide smile on his face as he caught sight of the three men.

"Glad you decided to come along" Renji told the blue haired man walking beside him. It had surprised him when he rounded the corner to see all three of them, and surprised him even more when he realized the bluenette was wearing the most clothing he had ever seen the man wear.

"I hardly had a choice." Grimmjow grumbled as he watched Shiro and Ichigo lead their horses into the red head's stable.

The near-albino's lilting laughter followed his words. "We sorta tricked 'im inta comin' with us" Shiro told the red head as he left the stable, Ichigo following behind him. With their horses safely penned up, they would stay warm and Shiro and Ichigo would be free to go where they please without tugging the animals along.

A slight grin split across Renji's tattooed features as he led the way inside. His home wasn't nearly as large as the twins' but it was a nice place and cozy nonetheless. They stripped out of their jackets and left their shoes by the door, the werepanther all too happy to be rid of the items, before making their way into the main room.

"So where's the midget? She visitin' her brother?" Shiro asked as they entered the kitchen area.

Renji frowned and disappeared down the hall way. The spare room was empty, their bedroom also empty, the bathroom, every room he checked was deserted. He returned a few moments later. "huh, don't know. She didn't say anything about it but I guess that doesn't really mean much"

The red head shrugged it off and made them all something warm to drink before they left the kitchen area to sit down in the smallish sitting room and strike up mostly idle conversation.

Outside, the clouds had finally released their moisture and opened up. Snow slowly floated to the ground in thick, wet flakes that quickly began coating everything in a frigid yet beautiful blanket of white. The wind quietly whistled around buildings and down the streets, driving the last of the citizens wandering about inside and out of the cold.

A lone, mournful howl carried softly through the village. The three humans paused in their conversation and looked to the werecat still quietly taking in his surroundings. He cocked his head slightly to listen but made no other action to indicate he even heard the sound and the three men dismissed it as nothing and went back to catching up.

••••••

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the lower light levels of the basement like space and she was soon looking around as she followed closely behind the strange shopkeeper. He lead her toward the far end of the vast space, passing shadowed shelves and cases as they went. Rukia caught glimpses of jars filled with liquids and cases filled with gleaming weapons and tools and other various instruments.

They approached what the raven haired girl determined to be their destination. The back of the hidden, underground space was lit up much more brightly. Lights hung on long chains form the high ceiling and more were mounted on posable stems and affixed to the floor or work spaces. A large, metal dentist or doctor style chair dominated one side of the lit up area, though it had clearly been modified to suit whatever it's purpose was. A long desk and work table stood directly before them, the surface cluttered with papers, instruments and various vials and test tubes filled with who knew what. The quiet hum of machinery permeated the air, interrupted by the occasional quiet beeping or the sound of air being passed through a tight space.

A figure emerged from the shadows to Rukia's right, making her jump slightly and turn to look at the man. She was faced with a very broad torso and had to crane her neck to look up at who approached. Before her stood the man she had been following all those days ago. His inky hair was left unbound to cascade around his shoulders, the silver bells and sadistic spikes missing but it did nothing to make him look friendlier. A jagged scar started at his hair line and ran the length of his face, across his left eye and creasing his thin lips on that side before disappearing under his chin. His other eye was covered with a black eye patch. The sword belted at his hip, partially concealed beneath the long coat he wore did not escape the woman's attention and she took a step back but didn't loose her look of calm and ease.

"Ah, no need to fear dear Kenpachi" The shopkeeper interrupted the silence and drew Rukia's attention. She glanced at him to find that the fan was back in place, hiding his features again. "He's really just a big teddy bear when you get to know him"

Rukia looked back up at the man named Kenpachi, images of him carrying that small child toward Ichigo and Shiro's house flashing in her mind. "Riiiight. And who are you, anyway?" She asked the shopkeeper who seemed to know everything.

"Urahara, at your service." The man bowed, removing his hat to reveal blond hair as his eyes sparkled in a way that made him look even more mysterious. "We have a third partner as well, but he seems to be absent" Urahara muttered, looking around the scientist's cluttered work station. No doubt the man was out looking for more specimens or some other such activity.

"You must be here for answers, yes? Why else would you risk your life following after Kenpachi" Urahara continued, his kind grey eyes studying the small woman. She really didn't look like much, but then, he knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.

Rukia slowly nodded, keeping a wary eye on the two men in her company. They made her nervous, as did being down in an extensive, underground room that no one else knew about. The very air around them was heavy with mystery, as though unspeakable things had happened there.

Urahara smiled behind his fan and sat down on a chair with wheels. "Very well. We are part of a small organization founded many, many decades ago to protect the people and keep the piece between humans and the beasties that lurk the forests."

The woman looked from Urahara, to Kenpachi, her face blank as she rose a single, dark brow in skepticism. She knew of the monsters that haunted the surrounding forests, of course. She had up close proof that they existed. But what this man was trying to tell her didn't sit quite right.

Kenpachi's course baritone filled the room. "She seen me with the wolf the other night, did you forget?"

"Ah yes, that would be why you doubt my words, then" Urahara said, looking back to the raven haired girl. "Kenpachi must do...less than favorable things on occasion. How else do you think we gather our intel?"

"So you're saying you hunt and kill werewolves?" Rukia asked, though she still held her doubts.

"Well, mostly werewolves, but occasionally other creatures as well." Urahara explained, spinning his chair in a circle as he spoke.

"Like were...cats?" Rukia couldn't help but ask. She already had her suspicions the monster living with Ichigo and his dead twin. The creature was the only reason she could come up as to why someone would team up with a werewolf to do...what they had done. Unless of course the man was being honest and they really were just infiltrating to gather what information they could.

"Only if he's causing problems for the surrounding villages, and as far as we can tell, he's only been after werewolves." When the girl didn't react and only stared at him like he had lost his mind, Urahara decided to elaborate. "There is no point in harming the innocent after all."

"You're kidding, right?" Rukia couldn't believe what she was hearing. Innocent? They really thought those monsters could be innocent? They killed people, hunted the forests and stalked the villages. They were monsters and one of them was trying to steal her friend. Then a thought occurred to her and dark eyes widened as she looked up at the beast of a man still standing to her right. "Are you guys...?"

A grin stretched across Kenpachi's face, accompanied by Urahara's laughter. The blond shopkeeper waved his fan in front of his face, mirth showing in his mysterious grey eyes. "No no, we're quite human, though being otherwise would be of use sometimes."

The door that led up to the main floor and the small arms store above opened, spilling light into the darkened area in the front of the underground room. Three heads turned to watch the newcomer enter the area.

A man with strange face paint entered, hardly taking the time to glance at Rukia before he walked passed her and to his laboratory table. "You'll never guess what was in town today" The man said in a strange voice.

"Ah, so that's where you were, Mayuri. Anything interesting?" Urahara asked in a friendly tone.

"Indeed. Three things of interest, to be more precise." The scientist said, rounding his table to begin rummaging through jars of various contents. "They do quite well at masking what they are, but nothing can escape my knowledge. Imagine what a treat it was to watch a werecreature fight in it's human form, well, not much of a fight really"

Urahara's grey eyes widened and Kenpachi growled, loosening his sword in it's scabbard.

"Don't be so hasty." The strange scientist said, waving a hand casually in the air as he continued to dig through his shelves of specimens and tools. "It didn't harm anyone, it was merely defending a ghost. Apparently the people in this little village don't like he and his master."

"No one really likes Shirosaki or Ichigo anymore, they're afraid of them" Rukia spoke up, watching the three men's reactions. They all paused and turned to look at her, surprise on Kenpachi and the scientist's features, while Urahara was again hiding behind his fan. Strange, yellow eyes studied her from behind the man's face paint, taking in her worth, dissecting her. It was an odd sensation that only further set her on edge.

"So you know the Caster and his raised brother, then? I wandered, you are about the right age." Urahara asked behind his fan. His partners both shot him a look that he mostly ignored. "It's a well known tale in this village, a tragic one, really" He told them before turning his attention back to the small, dark haired girl.

"This Caster, he's a necromancer then? He must be one of power to raise another human. And he did well, other than color, the Undead looks normal." The scientist spoke up, whatever he had been hunting for forgotten as he thought about this new development. A Caster strong in dark magic, that was skilled enough to raise a human and have him still look human. It was nearly unheard of.

"He's only just learning what he's capable of. Raising his twin was a bit of a fluke, but he has potential." Urahara commented, beginning to see where the man's line of thinking was headed. "Rukia, is Ichigo still as kind and good natured as when he was but a child?"

"Well, yes... He has a good heart, why?" The confused woman asked. She felt like she was missing something and she didn't like it. Why should they be discussing Ichigo's abilities, and why did they care if he was a good person or not?

Urahara turned back to his partners. "He may be interested in helping, and you know how Undead work. If the Caster joins, so will his twin." A smile showed in the blonds sparkling eyes.

The odd man with the face paint, Mayuri, gave a thoughtful hum. "What of the werecreature accompanying them?"

Pale brows furrowed slightly and the shopkeeper's fan disappeared. "I don't know much of it, only a few rumors that have begun to circulate." A feline werecreature hadn't been seen in decades, it was thought that they had all been destroyed.

"Is it bound, perhaps? Would this Caster be strong enough to do that?"

"I don't believe so. I have little doubt Ichigo is strong enough for that, but I don't think he has the heart to do it. There must be some other reason the creature is tagging along." Urahara said thoughtfully, gently tapping his folded fan against his chin.

"The cat, ghost and some human had apparently saved the child and her family from a group of wolves not long ago." Kenpachi's deep voice put in. He had heard it from the stray he had been associating with. "And he had certainly sought revenge on the werewolves after finding her body."

"Hmm, well then perhaps the werecat may be willing also" Urahara leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his features as he pondered their odds at gaining the support of three potentially very strong allies.

Rukia looked from one man to the next and finally found her voice. "What are you guys talking about?" She asked, a small amount of annoyance seeping into her tone at being left in the dark.

"Ah yes." Urahara turned to her again. They all had heard the tales, passed down from generations of Slayers, of a War intended to end man kind's reign as the dominate species and bring the werecreatures back to the forefront. The ploy had nearly succeeded, an entire people had been brought to their knees and destroyed, sacrificed to save whom they could and a god had been brought down with them. "We have reason to believe there is another great War on the way."

* * *

><p><strong>How many of you guessed that Ken-chan and his little group were going to be monster hunters? Just curious! (it was hinted at in early chapters that they would appear sooner or later)<strong>

**Anyway, what did you think?  
><strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Ya know, I always have something planned to put up here... and never remember it *shrug*  
>Not an overly long chapter, but lots of fun! Promise~ And plenty of plot development, though it may not seem like it<strong>

**Anyway, Enjoy~  
><strong>

* * *

><p>The forest was silent, the season's first snow lazily shifting through the bare branches to dust the ground and hide the dried, fallen leaves. The smaller inhabitants had bedded down for the night as the moon rose high into the midnight sky, casting everything in shimmering shadow. Not a sound broke the calm and the light breeze only smelled of the cold weather and more snow; clean, crisp and peaceful.<p>

Enjoying the quiet and increasingly rare solitude, the young she wolf's prints were the only marks to break the thin crust of white. Lilynette poked about through the new snow, her youth and curiosity making her restless while she was back in the den. Exploring their territory had never been off limits before, even when they were at odds with that cat. Now they were supposedly under a truce or agreement, she didn't really understand. But in her mind, that meant she should be able to wander where ever she liked, whether it be in Pack territory or the Pantera grounds, though she found that she had no desire to enter the feline's land any longer.

From the base of a tree nearby, a quick movement caught the young wolf's attention. She froze, sensitive ears perked and sharp vision zoning in on the nearly white rabbit tensed and staring back at her with wide, dark eyes. A slight tremor in the small creature's muscles had a happy, playful smile splitting the young wolf's maw as she sprang into action and gave chase, spraying snow and sliding on the slick, damp and dead leaves below.

She weaved around trees and jumped over low, still standing brush in an old and instinctive game of predator and prey. The rabbit, bounding strides propelling it as fast as it's little legs could go, ducked behind another tree and down a hole, out of harms way. Panting slightly from the short but fast paced burst of activity, Lilynette sniffed at the hole a little before shaking the light dusting of snow off her fur. She straightened and continued her exploring, rabbit forgotten as quickly as it had appeared.

"It's quite dangerous for a young pup like yourself to be wandering the forest alone"

Light colored eyes widened at the rough voice and her pleasant smile fell away. Lilynette spun about and bared her fangs at the traitorous male walking toward her through the dead forest. Ears pinned back, she snarled at the older wolf, her jaws snapping in threat. "And it's dangerous for you to be this close to Pack territory."

Baraggan's eyes narrowed at the she wolf. "Is that a threat, child? You know, being of Starrk's ilk will not save you out here. I bet the lazy mongrel doesn't even know you're missing." A cruel grin split the wolf's scarred lips. This could be the perfect opportunity to deal a real blow to Starrk and his Pack, even if it was just on an emotional level. The Alpha was always too protective and attached to the young she wolf, that was a weakness that the Alpha should have known he couldn't afford.

Lilynette growled but took an uncertain step away from the old male. He was right, Starrk didn't know she was missing. She was sick of being stuck in the den or being accompanied by her older sibling or his second at all times. She had snuck out while Starrk and Nnoitra were out scouting the opposite side of their territory, but the traitor didn't need to know that. "You better run while you have the chance. Do you really think Starrk would leave me out here by myself?"

The old male laughed, seeing the nervousness in her body language and the fear in her bright, magenta eyes. Taking another step forward, a cruel light shown in the creature's eyes and glinted from warn, yellowed but no less deadly fangs. The rogue male's laughter was cut short by a towering shadow darkening the snow and an all too familiar voice that promised a vicious fight and grievous wounds.

"She's right. Even if Starrk doesn't know she's missing, I do."

••••••

Renji dug out spare blankets and handed them over to the Caster as he turned from the closet in his hallway. "My place isn't as big as yours, but you guys make yourselves at home. There's the spare room and the sitting room couches, I'll let you figure the sleeping arrangements out."

A devious smirk stretched across Shiro's pale features but he stayed quiet when Ichigo shot him a look that dared him to open his mouth.

Renji glanced at the near-albino with a curious look but didn't ask. He knew enough to guess at the relationship between the twins and it only made sense that the feline was probably in the equation somewhere also. While it didn't bother him really, he still didn't need nor want confirmation of his suspicions. Their business was their own and he was fine keeping it that way.

"Thanks, Renji" The orange haired twin said, diverting his attention away from Shiro who was still grinning like the devil himself, mischief and mal-intent simmering in heated, golden orbs.

The red head smiled and pulled loose his long mane of wild hair as he headed further down the hall. It was nice having his friends over for a visit, and he was happy to see them smiling again. It seemed he had been right in thinking that getting them out of their house would do them some good. And since Rukia still hadn't showed up, he didn't have to worry about her doing or saying something she shouldn't. Renji had briefly wondered where she had gone, maybe her brother's again. Strangely, he found he didn't really mind her not being their. "No need. See you guys in the morning"

Shiro and Ichigo watched their friend's bedroom door close before they turned back toward the sitting room where their third person was still at, seemingly enjoying the quiet night.

"Ya comin' Grimm?" Shiro asked, his watery voice quiet in the still room. It wasn't the same, heavy silence that had enveloped their house before they had left to visit Renji, but rather a comfortable and companionable quiet.

Grimmjow looked away from the window, his brilliant blue eyes shining in the darkened room. He tilted his head slightly before a slight smile broke across full lips. "I'll join you later, I wish to explore your village while the humans sleep."

Ichigo frowned and started speak, questioning if that was a wise idea but a tug on his shirt had him looking over at his brother instead.

"Come on, King. Le' the man 'ave his fun, he hasn' been in a village in how long?" Shiro asked, liquid gold eyes darting from Grimmjow's form to sweep over the Caster's. "Sides, I got plans fer ya" The near-albino added with leering grin.

A smirk stretched across the feline's features as well and he hopped off the chair he had been perched in and sauntered over to the two men, the shorts they had thoughtfully brought along for him to change into after getting to Renji's riding low on his perfectly cut hips. He swiftly dipped and captured the Caster's lips with his own, pulling the man into a soul searing kiss. He grasped along the orangette's chin and swiped his tongue along the smaller man's button lip. Just as Ichigo opened up to allow him entrance, Grimmjow pulled away, dragging a breathy whine from the Caster. He leaned over to Shiro, soft lips ghosting across a pale ear as he whispered in a rumbling baritone to the man. "Have fun" He pulled back to smirk down at them again.

"Tha's jus' not even right" Shiro mumbled, his watery voice dropping to a husky rumble. He grabbed ahold of his King's hand again and dragged the man back down the hall toward the spare room they would be borrowing. He heard the bluenette chuckle before the front door was opened and the werecat disappeared into the cold, empty streets.

The pale man briefly wondered if the cat even bothered to throw on something warmer than the shorts he was wearing but decided he didn't care and quickly forgot about his concern altogether as he pinned Ichigo to the spare room's closed door. He pressed his face into the orangette's neck, nipping and kissing his way to his copy's jawline while his hands danced along the Caster's sides and hips.

"Sh...Shiro..." Ichigo breathed, shuddering as petal soft, white lips ghosted over every sensitive spot he had. He fisted one of his hands into the front of the near-albino's shirt trying to pull him closer as he moaned under his breath when a hot, wet tongue ran over the shell of his ear. Using his other hand, the Caster desperately sought out the knob to the door behind him that he was being pressed against. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that they were still in the hallway, right across from Renji's room and that the red head could walk out and find them at any time.

He finally found and twisted the handle as Shiro seized his lips in a bruising kiss to rival the one Grimmjow had placed upon them. The door was pushed open, their combined weights leaning against it to throw the door wide and bang into the wall behind it. The two men tumbled to the floor with a thud, but neither broke the kiss and Shiro grinned against Ichigo's lips.

An azure tongue swept across a full bottom lip, seeking entrance. Pink, kiss swollen lips parted to accommodate the muscle and tongues danced and played, fighting for dominance in an almost lazy way. The Caster hooked a lean, long leg around his twin's waist, grinding their quickly growing erections together and drawing a quiet moan from the pale man on top of him. Pale, warm hands pushed his shirt up, dancing over a lightly toned abdomen before finding and toying with the Caster's nipples.

Ichigo arched into the teasing hands of his copy, his needy moan quickly and eagerly swallowed as Shiro worked to draw more delicious sounds from the man.

The bedroom door across the hallway opened quietly on silent hinges. Renji rubbed at his eyes tiredly and peeked out, his upper body bare and his long hair cascading over his broad shoulders, hiding some of the elaborate ink that covered his body.

"Hey, are you guys...ooook then..." The red head jumped and averted his wide eyes as neither of the twins seemed to notice him. Carefully and quietly, he reached over and pulled the door to the spare room closed behind them, face red as he looked anywhere but the floor and tried not to hear the small sounds the two men made.

Ichigo tugged at white locks, pulling the elastic from Shiro's hair and letting it fall to cascade across his snowy shoulders and the floor around Ichigo's face. "Please...h...hurry, Shiro..." He gasped out, grinding his now painfully hard cock against his twin's hip through their pants. He felt the man's grin against the heated skin of his neck. Shiro was having way too much fun teasing him and Ichigo reached down between them to palm the man through his jeans, pleased when Shiro bucked into him at the light touch and released a ragged, almost desperate sound.

In a swift motion, Shiro pulled away from the floor, pulling the Caster with him and making the man throw his other leg around his waist as well in order not to fall. He guided them toward the bed, arms locked around Ichigo's back in a tight, possessive and comforting embrace.

The Caster was dropped to the bed, bouncing slightly as he watched Shiro pull his shirt over his head to expose his deliciously pale, muscled chest and torso. The orange haired twin followed suit, divesting himself of his shirt as Shiro crawled onto the bed to hover over him. The pale man lowered to kiss and lick at his copy's exposed stomach. Nimble, black nailed fingers worked the button and zipper of the Caster's tight pants as Shiro worked his way down the man's lithe abdomen with his lips and teeth, kissing and licking just to sink his teeth in and start all over again.

Ichigo panted and writhed under the man's ministrations, his impatience growing with his need. He wiggled his hips, helping Shiro pull his pants and boxers from his legs to be dropped on the floor. The Caster gasped as warm lips wrapped around the head of his leaking cock.

Shiro sucked him down, humming around the engorged flesh in delight. Thin fingers tangled through his long hair, gently pulling and tugging and urging him on as the Caster moaned and gasped. The sounds went straight to Shiro's already aching member and he had to fight not to pull away and fuck his King right then.

"Haa– Shiro..." Ichigo panted out around his sounds of pleasure. Pale hands held his hips from bucking. He fisted one of his hands in the sheets around him while his other toyed with his brother's flowing locks. The wet heat around his member was almost too much and not enough all at the same time. His breath hitched and he gasped as a warm, slick tongue circled the head before working along the underside as Shiro lowered back down and swallowed around him.

Shiro pulled away as the Caster's moaning voice began to take on a strangled edge. The act dragged a needy whine from the orange haired man and Shiro smirked as he yanked his own pants the rest of the way off. He turned back, noticing the door was already closed but didn't give it a second thought as he crawled between the more colorful man's legs.

He traced the crease between Ichigo's rounded cheeks and teased at his entrance with a slim finger. Ichigo wrapped an arm around the back of Shiro's neck and tugged him close, connecting their lips in a heated, messy kiss. He bit down on his brother's bottom lip as the teasing finger at his entrance gently eased it's way in.

A loud, low moan worked from his throat as Shiro slowly pumped his hand back and forth. "Shiro...m...more..." He moaned against the near-albino's ashen lips. He was rewarded with a second digit and sounds erupted anew from his throat at the intense pleasurable stretching.

"Fuck...King..." Shiro groaned out, his aching cock begged to be touched and demanding to dive into the inviting heat before him. Pulling away and out of Ichigo's arms, he leaned back on his knees and continued teasing and stretching the Caster. He pulled one of Ichigo's legs up over his shoulder, turning his head to place hot, open mouthed kisses on his inner thigh.

He pushed at Ichigo's other leg, further spreading them as he pulled his fingers from the man's entrance. Unable to deny the wanton whine that escaped King's lips, the near-albino rubbed the tip of his member against the man's all too enticing entrance.

Ichigo pushed back against his twin's member, forcing it passed the ring of tight muscle and into his passage. Deep, lust filled moans sounded from both mens' throats and Shiro slowly rocked forward, seating himself deep into the man's tight heat.

They paused, giving the Caster a moment to adjust while Shiro relished the tight, constricting feeling around his hard member.

"M...move...Shiro– please..." Ichigo moaned out his twin's name, head tilted back and eyes heavy lidded.

Shuddering in pleasure, Shiro slowly pulled back and thrust his hips flush with the Caster's again. The action earned him another lust heavy moan. Darkened, molten chocolate eyes were half mast as Ichigo stared up at his brother's angelic face, the bed creaking slightly in time to his thrusts.

Within moments, Shiro found a deep, brutal pace. His cock brushed across his King's prostate with deadly accuracy, pulling increasingly louder cries of pleasure from the Caster. He let Ichigo's leg drop from his shoulder and leaned forward, working one arm around behind his brother's neck while he leaned most of his weight on the other forearm beside the man's head. The near-albino, deep moans vibrating in his chest, locked the orange haired man into another messy kiss, quickly working his tongue between the man's parted lips.

Ichigo wasted no time in working his arms around Shiro's shoulders, one hand delving into the hair at the nape of his brother's neck. He held his copy close, intense pleasure building in his belly and pulsing before his vision.

"Sh...Shiro...so c...close..." He panted against the lily white lips connected to his own.

"Tha's it...King..." Shiro murmured back, still leaning over the Caster and thrusting with deep, even strokes. The heated passage hugging his cock constricted and a strangled moan passed the Caster's lips as he arched into Shiro's muscled, lithe body.

Hot, sticky strands of the Caster's release coated Shiro's toned abdomen. The man thrust a few more times, seating himself deep inside Ichigo as the spasming around his straining member pulled his own release from him.

"Kiiiing..." Shiro groaned out, resting his forehead on his twin's bare shoulder as he came. His panting breaths mixed with Ichigo's as they lay, still connected and rode out the last of their pleasurable euphoria.

After a moment, the pale man pulled out and collapsed to the bed beside Ichigo, leaving his head to rest comfortably on the Caster's tanned shoulder. Ichigo smoothed his beloved brother's tangled and mussed hair, gently running his fingers through the silky strands as they caught their breath.

"I love ya, Ichi, ya know tha' right?" The pale man asked, his voice tired and quiet in the now silent room.

A soft smile rested on Ichigo's lips as he let his eyes close, still stroking his brother's hair. "I know, Shiro... I love you too"

••••••

Snow crunched quietly underfoot; the only sounds made as the denizens of the small human village slept on. The occasional growling or barking of a dog, kept by the villagers for hunting and protection, would shatter the silence, only for the animal to catch a better whiff or sight and instantly cower, aggression forgotten as wariness and fear took it's place.

The light breeze pushed the snow around the streets, causing it to drift and swirl in little eddies around the buildings and quickly covering the large paw print like tracks left behind by the night's only visitor.

Staying mostly in the deeper shadows of alleys and near buildings, Grimmjow wandered the human village, his brilliant, inhuman eyes scanning and taking in everything in front of them.

The human civilization had changed so much over the decades. Magic was no longer a dominate and cherished art form but a rarity and a taboo that caused fear. Where once magic had ruled, science and technology were beginning to take over. Casters had become a scarce thing among men anymore, pushed into the background to fade from existence. Monsters, creatures like himself and the werewolves, their population's thinned by wars and hunting long ago, were now the thing of nightmares and bed time stories. The younger generations hardly even believed in them anymore. The only memories of when the creatures from the forest had lived in the open were found in the eldest of the human race, those who had been around to witness. Even those beings were becoming rare, succumbing to the human's short life span.

Of course, he had already known of most of the changes. No long living creature would be stupid enough to not keep tabs on the ever advancing human race. But even knowing of the advances didn't diminish the feline's curiosity as he padded through the streets on silent feet. Watching from afar was nothing akin to being able to explore up close and the werecat was throughly enjoying the opportunity, as much as he would probably deny it later.

Feline ears flicked about, catching nothing but the sound of wind as it whistled quietly through the deserted streets. His long, slim tail swayed in gentle, contented arcs behind him as Grimmjow rounded another building, careful to keep his senses opened and alert for any humans that he may find still out and about, though it hardly seemed likely anyone would still be awake, let alone outside in the frigid air. Horses from a near by stable snorted and stamped in their stalls as the gentle, snow laden breeze carried his sent toward them.

He sniffed around some of the buildings as he entered the market section of the village near the edge of town. A small shop with large front windows caught his eye so he wondered toward it, giving in to his curious nature and heritage. The scent of silver, strong and potent had his nostrils flaring and white, curved fangs bared for a second before Grimmjow flicked his ears in irritation and trotted away from the small building and it's offending smell.

Continuing to poke about the small village, he made his way toward the boundary, marked by a low wooden fence that one would see used to keep horses in a corral. He edged toward it and began following it, choosing a direction at random and unworried about loosing his way back to his humans' friend's house. It was impossible for the werepanther to loose his way with his keen senses to guide him. Grimmjow would be able to find the location centuries from now, even if the building no longer stood to mark where it had once been.

The snow drifted along the fence and the near by trees beyond it but the cold precipitation hardly bothered the feline as his long, muscled legs easily pushed through. The breeze, seeming as though it was trying to pick up in strength, lifted and blew the fluffy white snow around to swirl through the air around the werepanther. Grimmjow lifted his head into the breeze, letting his gorgeous blue eyes close and a small smile tilt his feline lips.

A distant sound rode the air, making his brow furrow ever so slightly and his head tilt, his moment of calm discarded. Keen ears strained and searched for more sounds, perked in the direction of the dangerous forest. A low, unmistakably canine growl cut through the trees and falling snow and Grimmjow bared his teeth in annoyance and anger. He started to continue on his way but only took a few steps before pausing. If it was a group of strays preparing to raid, he should probably put a stop to it. Plus, there was always the added bonus of filing his maw with bitter wolf's blood, something he almost never missed a chance at.

Mind made up, the feline easily leaped over the low fence and padded silently into the surrounding forest. Quiet words carried toward him, the voice gravely and rough, a distinct air of superiority in the muffled words. Grimmjow sneered and stalked toward the sounds. Now he really couldn't pass up the opportunity to kill a few wolves, knowing that the bastard male, Baraggan was leading them.

Another voice, this one female and much younger sounding had Grimmjow pausing before a silent sneer crossed his features. He huffed an irritated breath and took off in the direction of the voices. The skilled predator that he was, the werepanther made not a sound as his swift, sure strides devoured the snow covered ground. Sleek muscle rippled below shimmering, blue black fur, propelling him forward with unmatched grace and agility.

Grimmjow slowed his fast sprinting pace and trotted just as silently closer as the sounds grew louder. Hiding in the shadows of the bare trees, the cat easily sneaked toward the wolves undetected. Once the mongrels were in his line of sight, Grimmjow paused to assess the situation.

Baraggan unknowingly had his back turned toward the feline, a dangerous position that Grimmjow would be sure to exploit and take advantage of. Lilynette took a step away from the male, speaking in an unwavering and seemingly confident voice, but her eyes and posture gave her away. Even from his current distance, the werecat could tell she was lying about Starrk being near by.

"... Do you really think Starrk would leave me out here by myself?" the young she wolf bluffed, her eyes wide as she watched every move the rogue male made.

Grimmjow glanced around, searching for other strays. He found no signs; no moving shadows or hushed noises, nor a trace of musky canine scent rode the breeze. An idea came to him as he scanned the shadows. Easily making the vertical leap to the lower hanging branches of the tree he was crouched near, the cat scaled the leafless tree, his dark coat helping him blend in against the shadowed trunk.

With the perfect balance only a creature of feline decent could possibly master, Grimmjow easily traversed the thick branches near the center of the trees. He stalked forward, leaping the gaps between branches and carefully keeping his body weight from shaking the tree limbs too much, though the two wolves were probably too wrapped up in each other to take notice of whatever signs he may have given. A wicked grin curving his lips away from sharp teeth. Grimmjow made his way ever closer until his shadow, seemingly much too tall from being off the ground, crossed over the old male wolf's own.

Whatever the traitor had been about to say died in his throat as his head snapped toward the unexpected movement of the shadow. As the werewolf began to spin, searching out the unseen spectator, Grimmjow spoke.

"She's right. Even if Starrk doesn't know she's missing, I do." He let his voice take on a menacing, growling edge, revealing his position and nearly laughing at the look of surprise on the mutt's scarred up face. He was going to enjoy this.

A cruel, sneering smile marred the felines face and he pounced from his perch in the branches above. Lilynette let out a surprised yelp and scrambled backward, ducking behind a tree to watch as Baraggan spun about in attempt to defend against the descending panther.

Growling laughter shattered the silence as the wolf threw his arms up to intercept the worst of the werecat's cruel claws. Grimmjow's smaller weight was enough to throw the mutt to the ground and even though his outstretched arms were grasped and held away from the mongrel's flesh, his back legs kicked out, the recurved claws located on his hind feet just as vicious. Grimmjow snarled as the two creatures struck the ground, Baraggan grunting as three hundred pounds of furious cat landed atop him and began digging in before he had the chance to throw the cat off.

The only thing on the experienced old male's mind was the need to flee. He was much larger than the panther, undoubtedly stronger as well, but the conniving cat had taken him by surprise and was no push over under normal circumstances. The once-deidad was legendary for his ferocity and Baraggan had seen what the feline could do first hand once provoked. He had no desire to drag this out any longer than he had too, not yet at least. Lilynette's demise would have been a treat, but only a small victory and it wasn't worth his life.

The werewolf attempted to climb to his feet, grasping the feline's arms and snarling in his face. Cruel teeth snapped shut, mere centimeters from his snout. Baraggan jerked backward and away from the dagger like teeth in his face, his ears flattening.

Grimmjow let a deranged smile curl his lips as he snarled and hissed at the wolf. His jaws were so close to the mongrel's snout that he could have licked him if he tried. It was a tempting thought, but he really didn't care for wolf fur. Snarling in fury, Grimmjow redoubled his struggling. He had a vendetta to settle after all and he would have fun with his revenge. He yanked his arms from the mutt's grasp and struck out. A hard shot slammed into the wolf's abdomen before Grimmjow let his claws shred down the flesh of the mutt's belly.

Baraggan yelped and pulled away, out of the cat's reach but he knew better than to turn his back. Ears flattened back against his skull and teeth bared, he tried to come up with a way to retreat without being shredded in the process. He would have to inflict enough damage to stun the creature long enough to allow him to flee.

The wolf jumped back in and Grimmjow side stepped, avoiding the main attack. As he rounded toward the wolf again, the werepanther pounced and sank his teeth deep into the back of the beast's neck, squeezing, constricting, tearing and shredding, hoping to feel his fangs grind against the mongrel's spine.

The rogue male howled and clawed at the feline, trying to dislodge the cat before he could do any permanent damage. Claws raked against the muscle of his back and shoulders, holding the feline firmly in place. His searching hands brushed warm fur and Baraggan eagerly sank his own claws in, feeling them puncture before he latched on and shredded.

With a short yelp, Grimmjow unlatched his jaws and swiveled his ears back, feeling the extra movement from the one the mutt had managed to tear through. Rage surged through his body and flooded his vision. Using his hind legs and one hand to hold himself in place upon the mutt's broad back, much the way a human would cling to a mountain, Grimmjow tore the claws of his right hand out of wolf flesh and sent several concussive hits to the wolf's ribcage.

His tail lashed out in angry swipes behind him as he snarled and growled, ears pinned back and eyes ablaze. This mutt deserved to die for so many things. He had murdered a human child and her family in cold blood, put his befriended humans and lovers in danger, threatened his own life, the mutt was trying to over throw Starrk. Adding endangering Lilynette, the Alpha's sibling, his new ally's sibling, to the list was only icing on the already rich cake.

Baraggan snarled and grunted around the strong blows to the side of his ribcage. He staggered backward, spinning as he tried to reach the smaller creature attacking him. He slammed against a tree, using all his strength and weight. He was rewarded with hearing a satisfying thump and gasp as the feline's claws retracted and the air left the cat's lungs.

As the large wolf took a step forward and pulled away, Grimmjow slid down to the base of the tree, chest heaving to force air into his stunned lungs, a grimace upon his features. He hissed and scrambled to his feet as the big mutt came back in swinging. A heavy fist landed on his shoulder as he turned and tried to dodge but Grimmjow was no novice to fighting. He rolled with the hit and let it push him rather than resist what could have been a potentially serious hit and wound, only taking a minimal amount of damage for his quickness and instinctive reactions.

The werepanther sprang back to his feet as he completed his role and planted his weight and momentum, diving back in and eagerly sinking his teeth into the arm that was thrown up to block his attack. The bigger wolf staggered under the force of his lunge as bitter, hot fluids seeped into this mouth and filled his senses, trickling down his chin and staining his fangs a delicious red.

Lilynette, still cowering behind a near by tree, stared wide eyed as the two creature's battled and fought. Blood trickled from wounds and began to sprinkle the white snow with turgid red droplets, mixing and churning as they struggled to turn it into a mocking, delicate pinkish color. Whom bore more wounds was impossible for the she wolf to tell for certain, though Baraggan had more visible lacerations, the shredded edges of his flesh glistening wetly in the moon light. There was no doubt he would have more scars to add to his hide after this battle.

Fierce snarling and threatening hissing filled the previously calm night of the darkened forest and insured that no other creature would venture near by, even as the scent of blood grew thick and heavy. The ground underfoot vibrated with weight and force of the battling beasts as they rolled and tumbled. They crashed into trees, breaking bark and tearing through dried brush.

The two larger beast's rolled about, slamming into the trunk of the tree Lilynette was crouching behind. She flinched, ducking away as the branches of the tree shook with the combined force and weight of the werecat and wolf. Scrambling a little further away, she continued to watch, unable to look away from the strange beauty that most battles held. Baraggan used his greater size and brute strength against the feline, the way most of the wolves that ever had the misfortune to fight the cat did, while Grimmjow's grace and fluid motions gave him a far greater speed than the older wolf could possibly hope to keep up with.

A big hand found it's way through the panther's defenses, pinning La Pantera against the tree they had stumbled against. Feline snarling rose in pitch as Baraggan pressed, wrapping thick fingers around the cat's throat as he pressed harder, snarling and attempting to crush the mighty werepanther's esophagus. Hooked, talon like claws dragged down the length of his arm, flaying the skin and tearing at muscle. The old male bared his teeth but stubbornly refused to release his hold over the smaller creature.

The snarling turned to a gurgling cough as Grimmjow bared his own teeth and fought to free himself. Lilynette seemed to snap from her stupor as she watched the feline's struggling slow and his fierce claws rip more shallowly into the traitorous wolf's flesh. She may not particularly like the feline, but he was her brother and Alpha's ally, and an undeniably valuable one at that. He had also saved her from what was undoubtedly going to be a ghastly fate at the hands of the cruel traitor. Without thinking, she reacted and threw herself at Baraggan.

The she wolf was small, but she was still a werewolf, a creature capable of being vicious and fierce in her own right and she certainly wasn't a coward. She snarled and sank her teeth into the muscle of the traitor's shoulder, the very arm that was pinning the cat to the tree and cutting off his oxygen. She grabbed hold and jerked at his arm, using powerful back legs to tug the much larger wolf away. She skidded and slid in the slick snow but she was determined and blood began seeping into her mouth as her fangs cut through meat and scrapped lightly at the scapula. She wasn't able to hold on long, the bigger male quickly releasing the feline to target her. As Baraggan surged around, she was thrown off and slid a few feet through the snow before scrambling back to her feet.

Growling his anger, the male wolf stalked toward the smaller wolf, an evil promise at her interference in his aged eyes. A horse howl had his head snapping around to see Grimmjow climb to his feet, wild, feral hatred and unbridled fury swirling in cold blue fire. The feline panted and staggered forward but seemed to be quickly regaining his strength. As much as he wanted to deal damage to the little she bitch, Baraggan knew that his chance to flee was upon him. The cat wouldn't chase after him just to catch up and risk running out of energy. He knew the feline to be too smart for that.

"This isn't over, cat!" The male snarled as he began backing away from the rising feline. "I wont make the same mistake twice, you'll die with your precious humans this time." A deep growl rumbling in his throat, Baraggan turned and fled into the night, weaving around trees as quickly as he could. Blood dripped from his serrated flesh but he was confident he wouldn't be hunted. As it was now, he feared blood loss more than attack and fled toward his makeshift den as quickly as his damaged body could carry him.

His first instinct was to give chase. No one dared threaten him. But the feline knew he couldn't run the risk of bumping into more of the mutt's followers in the forest. Grimmjow watched the mutt disappear before slowly sinking into a kneeling position on the snow. Panting, he bared his teeth as he checked the state of his own wounds. All things considered, he wasn't really all that injured, just had the wind knocked out of him. Quite throughly. His torn ear ached but he figured it'd be fine, he could still hear just fine and if anything, it would only add another scar, something he hardly worried about.

Head tilting ever so slightly, blue eyes rose to meet the she wolf's timid, wide orbs. She stared back at him, body tense as if ready to flee and her tail humbly tucked between her legs. Grimmjow couldn't help but chuckle. She was young but if she survived, maybe she wouldn't turn out so bad. Perhaps Starrk had been teaching her well after all.

"I think you should go home" Grimmjow said quietly, watching the way the young wolf flinched at his voice. After a moment, she nodded her agreement, a slow, hesitant motion,eyes never leaving his crouching form.

She took a step in the direction of the Pack's den before hesitating and looking back down at the still kneeling and panting feline. "T...Thanks" She said in a whisper before taking off at a swift pace, headed toward her den and safety.

Within moments she was gone from his line of sight and Grimmjow shook his head as he climbed to his feet. Oh, wasn't Ichigo and Shiro going to love hearing about this one... The feline blew out a sigh and headed toward the village again.

He set off in a loping, long stridden pace. It wasn't the same ground devouring pace he had arrived to the place of battle with, but it would still carry him fairly quickly back while letting him catch the rest of his lost breath. Minutes stretched by, the only sound was that of his quiet steps breaking the crust of the snow in the returned silence of the forest, it's inhabitants no longer deep in sleep, but now awake and hunkered down, hoping to be passed over by the enraged predators. The breeze had picked up, ruffling his thick, black fur and whistling through the tree branches.

Even though it had ceased snowing, the stars and moon were hidden behind thick, grey clouds and the feline expected more snow before the night was over.

Grimmjow easily cleared the low fence that marked the human village and didn't hesitate as he headed directly toward the house Ichi and Shiro were at, more than likely fully sated and sleeping peacefully, entangled within each other's arms. A slight smirk crossed feline features, the action stinging a cut along his jaw. Grimmjow slowed to a walk as he approached the human home. He veered as he approached, releasing his resurrection and shivering slightly as his thick fur peeled away and left him bare to the elements. He snagged the shorts from where he had left them but didn't bother donning them as he pushed the front door open and crept into the dark house.

He paused at the door way after shutting out the cold wind. He didn't bother locking the door, figuring they would be safe enough with him around to guard. All was quiet. Not the quiet that followed him around, the forced silence that followed a predator, but the comfortable silence that spoke of warm and restful sleep. He silently padded down the short hallway and gently eased the spare room door open. The light scent of sex mingled with the signature smell of the Caster and his copy and Grimmjow inhaled deeply as he closed the door behind him with a soft click of the latch.

True to his prediction, the two men were in a deep sleep, snuggled against one another, the blankets pulled up to cover the majority of their bare bodies. Shiro was laying on his stomach, his head resting on the Caster's shoulder and his white mane fanned out across the pillow. Ichigo lay on his back, his arms slung around his brother's shoulders with a small smile still tilting his delicate lips.

Grimmjow let a quiet, deep purr rumble in the silence, unable to help himself at the sight presented to him. He eased the covers back and began to slip into the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping men. Their heat and scent wrapped him tighter than any blanket could, letting him know all would be fine, letting him know that this was where he belonged.

As he lay in the dark, listening to the rhythmic, steady breathing of the humans and their nearly synchronized heart beats, blue brows pulled together in a frown that contrasted with the peaceful mood of the room.

The mutt's words came back to him in the silence of the red headed human's home; foreboding and filled with ill omens.

'...you'll die with your precious humans this time...'

He fell into a restless sleep filled with visions of blood and the sounds of vicious, desperate battle and screaming. Monsters and humans alike littered his dreamscape, bodies laying twisted and mangled in pools of blood and stained snow. Some screamed in agony, some in fear, others in despair. Flashes of cruel fangs and tearing claws, silver plated hand guns and elaborate robes. Glimpses of a silver blade held in skilled hands and violet, dull eyes, of dying men and women. Of red smeared, white hair and pain filled brown eyes.

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><p><strong>Foreboding, no?<br>Well, what did you think? Let me know!  
><strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but I think it'll be worth it. I'm actually quite pleased with this chapter~**

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><p><em>The world was silent, not even the choked, screamed words coming from the man near by could break the deathly calm. He could see him screaming, see his mouth working to form pleading words, yet couldn't, like there was a heavy fog between them, making his features blurred and indistinct. But he could never forget what he looked like, not for as long as he lived. <em>

_Nothing but the pulse of a slowing heart beat pounded weakly in his sensitive ears, an organ that was furiously fighting a loosing battle. Tears streamed unchecked down paler than normal features. The man's eyes were wide, red rimmed and ringed with dark circles from weariness and fatigue but nothing of that weariness showed in those too-acute shimmering orbs. The only thing that shown there was pain and fear, two things that should never reflect from those beautiful and expressive eyes._

_Something was wrong, so very wrong with this world and it made no sense. Nothing did at the moment, not anymore. A small sound filtered through the air, distorted and distant, like they were under water. He bared his teeth, he could feel his lips peel away from his fangs, but he couldn't hear his own snarl. At least, he thought he was snarling. A flash of glinting silver cleared away the distorted images before him._

_Another small sound seeped through the heavy, turgid air. Closer than the last. Flashes of color filled his vision; red streaked white and wide, golden orbs, flowing orange and distraught brown, a fiery red mane and jagged black marks. The earth seemed to shake below him and someone reached out too him like a lifeline. Freezing cold and numb but burning and heavy, painful and comforting all at once, strange but he would give anything for it to never end._

Grimmjow bared his teeth in the darkness of the room, hands twisting and fisting into the light sheets laying over top of him. His body shivered slightly, but not from cold. His heart pounded in his chest like rapid fire, nearly painfully so had he been awake to feel it. The man drew a strangled, ragged breath, his chest heaving with the effort. He let it out as a yowling growl, a sound caught somewhere between rage and pain, filled with as much emotion as a sound could hold and nearly heart wrenching in it's intensity.

Brown eyes snapped open wide and Ichigo jerked awake, his brows creased in confusion as he slowly propped himself up on his elbow to look at the blue haired man laying next to him. Behind the Caster, Shiro mimicked his movements and peered over his shoulder to study the seemingly sleeping feline.

"s' he dreamin'?" He asked, his watery voice quiet and confused, still heavy with much needed sleep. He yawned, running pale fingers through his ashen, sleep tangled hair to pull it back and out of his face.

Ichigo nodded, still watching as Grimmjow twitched and moved in his sleep. The motions, seeming all the worse from the dramatic shadows cast in the darkened room, were jerky and sharp with obvious distress. Long fingers flexed in the blankets as a pitiful whine escaped the werecat's throat.

"Hate ta see wha' he's dreamin' 'bout" Shiro mumbled quietly. It had to have been bad to have the fierce werecreature reacting so violently. The man had pitted himself against a half dozen werewolves and not thought twice, but here he was, thrashing in his sleep and looking more afraid than either of the men had ever seen him. Not that he had really given it much thought, but Shiro had never really seen evidence that the man even dreamt while he slept. His copy nodded silently in agreement, eyes still anchored to the bluenette and debating if he should wake the man. He wasn't given the chance, however.

_The distance was dark and smudged, nothing but shadows and tangled limbs, indistinct, unimportant and unnoticed. The faces around him, so familiar and yet almost unrecognizable as pain and fear twisted their features, blurred in and out of focus. A searing pain pulsed behind his vision like a red-hot silver bullet tearing through his skull. He had felt this before, long long ago, he was sure of it. But he didn't want it back. Never again. He brushed away a stray tear; marks that should never mar either of the men's perfect faces. Finally, the sounds around him came rushing in; the pained cries and pleading, whispered words. He would kill them for this, all of them. He would hunt down every last creature; man or monster responsible for what they had done to the men he now knew he loved. He heard a strangled scream that left his throat feeling raw as he looked at a pale, drawn face, nearly a match to it's unnaturally white copy. _

Grimmjow bolted upright, a snarling shout tearing from his throat as the blankets fell away and pooled in his lap. Twin yelps of surprise and the creak of the bed as it adjusted to the shifting weights reached through the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. Chest heaving, he jerked his head toward the sounds just in time to see Ichigo tumble from the bed to land on his twin with a thud, Shiro already sprawled on the floor.

The door flung wide, banging off the wall behind and echoing through the short hall. "Fuck, you guys ok?" Renji, half dressed and his wild red hair a tangled mess, burst through the open portal with wide eyes. A looming, black shadow in the darkness that was much too large to be human and unearthly, luminous blue eyes met him. He cursed and jumped back, nearly tripping over himself in his surprise. Managing to right himself, he leaned back against the wall of the hallway and placed a hand over his thumping heart as it tried to break his ribs when he realized the twins weren't under attack.

The werepanther looked up at the man, his sharp eyes still clouded with the emotions that had swirled in his dream; pain, fear, sorrow, confusion. Slow to realize what was going on, Grimmjow watched as Ichigo and Shiro slowly climbed to their feet to stand beside the bed. All three of the humans stared at him for a moment before the Caster finally spoke in answer to the red head's question.

"Uhh...yeah, we're fine, Renji" His voice was soft and calm but he couldn't quite hide the slight wavering in his reassuring tone from the shock fueled adrenaline running through his system.

"Tch. Speak fer yerself, King." Shiro mumbled. "Damn cat nearly gave me a heart attack."

Grimmjow looked over at him, his brows drawing together with confusion. It was only when Ichigo, clutching a section of the sheet in front of him to hide his nudity from Renji, edged back onto the bed and laid a gentle hand on his arm that he realized he had veered as he awoke. His tail wiggled in jerky, seemingly random motions, a testament to his still frayed nerves. He looked down at the smaller human, seeming more frail than normal from his larger werepanther form, his blue eyes wide, ears pinned back and nostrils flared as he panted.

In the hall, Renji pushed away from the wall, hand still over his chest, and made his way back toward his own room on slightly shaking legs. The sun wasn't even peeking over the horizon yet and now that he knew no one was being hurt or killed he was determined to slow his rapid heart and go back to bed, though he was quite awake after throwing the door open to see the large werecreature still half in bed and blue, feline eyes nearly glowing in the dark. Ichigo and Shiro could handle whatever just happened and with the way they were looking at the feline, concern and worry evident in both men's expressive eyes, he was starting to feel like he was intruding on a rather intimate moment anyway.

"are you ok?" Ichigo asked, his voice hardly above a whisper as he gently brushed his fingertips over the thick, silky fur of Grimmjow's forearm, feeling the corded muscle hidden below. He could almost feel the feline trembling ever so slightly in aftermath of the evidently horrifying dream. It was so subtle though, it could have just been his imagination.

Black ears slowly swiveled to face forward again and Grimmjow's long, slim tail ceased it's swaying, coming to a rest curled across the werecat's legs. Intense blue swirled with something unnamable and unsettling but the feline nodded slightly, looking down at the human as if he may never get to see him again, searching for every possible sign of life there was to see in the man before him.

Grimmjow took a deep breath and closed his eyes, calming himself and his raging instincts as he slipped from his resurrection. It was only a dream. He released the held breath as the mattress he sat upon bounced and leveled out with his now much lighter weight. Opening his eyes again, he leaned forward and snatched Shiro's arm, yanking the smaller man onto the bed beside his copy.

Startled with the sudden action, Shiro climbed back onto the mattress and knelt beside Ichigo. The two humans, their eyes wide with worry and curiosity, each one's expression a mirror of the other's, carefully studied the shaken feline.

In return, Grimmjow studied them; his inhuman eyes raking over their bodies and taking in every detail he could. It had only been a dream, a nightmare, something he hadn't had in along time but not unheard of. His humans, the two young men in front of him, were fine and unharmed. He couldn't control the slightly hitching purr that bubbled from his throat, relief flooding his system like a tidal wave as the last of the horrendous images and overwhelming emotions of his dream faded into the background. The werepanther, once again a man, circled his muscled arms around the twins, pulling them close, taking in their familiar scents and comforting body heat.

The two, both caught off guard by the man's sudden affection, paused in their confusion before returning the almost relieved and loving embrace. The Caster intertwined his fingers in the silken strands of blue at the nape of the man's neck, gently combing through his hair in slow, reassuring motions while he rested his head on the bluenette's strong shoulder. Beside him, Shiro buried his face into the opposite shoulder, a pale hand splayed across Grimmjow's broad chest feeling as the previously erratic heart rate slowed to a more natural, steady pace and his panting breaths once again returned to normal.

Neither knew what could have happened to have the man so upset, but both were content to stay in his embrace as long as all was well again. Grimmjow slowly laid back down, pulling the two humans with him and keeping them close. They snuggled in and made themselves comfortable, one man on either side of him in the darkness. The werecreature didn't know how long he lay there, but the humans' breathing had evened out before he finally closed his eyes and let a deep, dreamless sleep finally consume him.

••••••

Rukia flipped through the pages of an old tome Urahara had handed over to her to look through while he and the other man conversed about plans for war or something like that. The third man, Kenpachi, had disappeared a while ago, probably to meet with another monster. She wasn't really paying much attention to them, aside from keeping track of their whereabouts just as a precaution.

The large book it's self weighed more than she thought possible for simple bound papers. The leather cover was worn and faded, but had obviously once been painted and decorated with brilliant colors and gold filigree. The mysterious shopkeeper had told her it was older than all four of their ages combined and she believed him after staring at pages of seemingly unintelligible text for a half hour or more.

"You can actually read this?" She asked incredulously, still looking down at the heavy book settled across her lap, a slight frown on her face.

"Most of it, yes" Urahara answered, not looking at her as he shuffled through the long scrolls of rolled up parchment that adorned one of the numerous shelves behind the scientist's work area. "Mayuri and I spent a good while deciphering it when we first ran across the records. It details the various known were-species and their notable individuals"

Rukia continued flipping through the countless pages. Pictures etched by a skilled hand showed detailed illustrations of various creatures and a few of the stages in their transformations. Other drawings showed scientific studies of werewolf skulls and bones compared to natural ones. She skipped through a few more pages of text she couldn't make sense of or understand, stopping on another picture. The image showed a diagram of two nearly identical werewolves with lines that pointed to various parts and labeled them. The young woman was able to make out a few of the words, only enough to realize one wolf was supposed to be an 'original' while the other wasn't. Not that it meant much to her. She turned the page, noticing that the further back she got the more recognizable some of the characters and letters became until she finally made it to a section she could actually read almost all the way through.

The text told of a time long ago, stories she had never heard before of a time all but forgotten. It gave a description of a terrible battle between the attacking monsters and men desperate to save their families and their village. Rukia read of a beastly god, it's form taking that of a werecreature, that had not agreed with the attempted eradication of the human species. Outnumbered by the creatures that wished to appose it's protests, the deity had made the dire decision to risk it's faith, it's followers and it's very being to put an end to the massacre. The desperate act had worked, but it came with a high price. The human civilization had been decimated, the population dropping to a meagre number and set back in it's advancement. The once fierce deity's followers were destroyed and the god it's self was stripped of it's strength and power and left to die on the cold earth.

Enthralled with what she was reading, Rukia slowly flipped another page. She was faced with another picture, this one drawn in flowing ink with hints of what had once been vivid color. An inky creature stared back at her, half it's face coated in fur matting blood, it's body crumpled on the snow covered ground but it was obvious the beast was determined to crawl on. Overwhelming sorrow swirled in the creature's haunted eyes and the way fearsome teeth were bared in a grimace. In the distance, human bodies littered the page, freshly turned mounds of earth off to one side.

Furrowing her brows slightly, Rukia glanced over the disturbingly accurate and realistic picture, an odd feeling of recognition hiding in the corner of her brain. The raven haired woman pulled her gaze from the picture and began reading the facing page. She only made it in a few words when a single phrase caught her attention, pulling on something in the back of her mind until she felt it would snap.

"La Pantera..." She whispered, the book slipping from her slackened grasp to fall heavily to the floor in front her. The thick, stiff pages fluttered but ultimately stayed open to reveal the same image of the defeated and beaten werecat.

Startled by the sudden thump, Urahara spun about to see what the commotion was about. A slight irritation welled in the older man when he realized his precious and priceless book had been thrown to the ground. However, his ire was forgotten when he made his way to stand behind the small woman and peered over her shoulder to see what she was staring so intently at.

She whispered the god's name and a tiny, sad smile touched the shopkeeper's lips before he pulled out his fan and spoke. "Ah yes, a sad story, is it not?" He had read over it so many times he could nearly recite it from memory and heart.

"It's believed he was able to fulfill his self imposed task before he succumbed to his stripped godhood and died on his thrown. We've looked for the temple of course, but alas this event occurred many generations ago and we've been unable to find any remains." Urahara made his way around the woman's chair, picking up the book from the ground before studying the picture for what was probably the thousandth time. "Of course, while the text indicates this area, the picture's show a desolate and flat landscape. Not what we see around here now..."

As the odd blond man continued to ramble, Rukia struggled to wrap her mind around what was being revealed to her. La Pantera sounded so familiar and yet so odd on her tongue. There was a bitterness that clung to words, something she already knew she didn't like. Something clicked and her mind provided her with the memory of where she had first heard those words, growled in an almost indignant and arrogant fashion by a man that was not what he seemed. The strange monster Ichigo and his dead twin had befriended had introduced himself under that title as if it should have held weight. Now she knew why it held that weight. But that couldn't be right, he had to have been lying to them.

Rukia snatched the book back from the shopkeeper and stared down at the picture of the creature with feline-like features. Profound, all-consuming cyan eyes stared back at her, shocking in their intensity even as mere painted replicas on old paper. Though she knew they were nothing when compared to the real thing.

"He's alive..." Rukia breathed, more to herself than anyone around yet the room fell silent and the eyes of both men turned toward her, their previous duties and tasks forgotten. Still, the raven haired woman continued to stare down at the book.

The shopkeeper stopped speaking mid-word as he slowly kneeled in front of the small woman to look her in the eye. The disbelief and awe in her quiet voice had his blood running cold and he wasn't even sure why. He had searched for more than a decade for any signs of the feline deidad that had so willingly sacrificed it's followers and it's godhood to save a race that was not it's own, one that, in modern times, would fear and loath the creature.

"What did you say?" Urahara asked her, his voice as quiet as Rukia's had been. All throughout his search, the shopkeeper had never found anything to support either the deidad's life or his death. He had hardly even found enough evidence to support the creature's very existence. Only old legends passed down through generations as bedtime stories had survived. Yet here was this young woman, less than half his age, that had stumbled into his shop looking for answers and who knew what else. A young woman who had probably never even heard of La Pantera was claiming the very opposite of every legend and rumor he had ever heard. And Urahara desperately found himself wanting to believe her with every fiber of his being.

"He...he...The god, he's still alive..." Rukia repeated, finally handing the book back to it's owner. She was positive it wasn't just a coincidence. The dangerous creature that had been living with her old friend, the beast she though was a mere monster was the god in the story. The god that was supposed to be dead. The likenesses were too similar, too perfect. The descriptions were too accurate. Even just looking at the painted picture, the beast's over powering presence was a perfect match. "He goes by Grimmjow now."

"Grimmjow? How can you possibly know this?" Urahara's calm grey eyes were wide and bored into the small woman, his ever present fan falling from his grasp to clatter on the ground, the sound going unnoticed even as it echoed in the quiet of the under ground room. He clutched the book to his chest but refused to take his gaze off the woman. He hung on her every word, he had to know how she could be so sure.

Rukia flinched slightly at what she saw, edging back on her seat when faced with the normally calm and collected shopkeeper's odd reaction to what she was saying. With slow motions, she reached out and gently tapped a single finger on the cover of the book that wasn't pressed against the blond's chest. It sounded solid and tangible. "...because that's the same creature that lives with Ichigo and his brother..."

Urahara stared at her in disbelieving silence for a long while before he slowly stood from where he was kneeling and turned to look behind him at the scientist. Mayrui's strange yellow eyes, only enhanced by his odd black and white face paint, were wide and staring back at him. A wide smile slowly slid across his features and he was unsure whether he should laugh or be angry. How was this even possible?

"You saw the creature in the village yesterday, yes?" Urahara asked the scientist. "Did he look like a deidad?"

"He..." Mayuri let a slight frown crease his features, tapping his chin with a long, thin finger while he thought before he shrugged. "He looked like a man."

"That doesn't help" Urahara groaned in an almost child like manner. He dropped into a cross-legged sitting position on the ground before Rukia and opened the book in his lap. He flipped through pages at a maddening pace, scanning the text faster than the raven haired woman could keep up. He marked the picture of the werecat with one finger before flipping passed it to continue his search. "I don't think there is a written description of him out of his resurrection in here. Or a picture for that matter. It was thought most werecreatures didn't like taking human form."

"Maybe it's different for deidades..." Mayuri mused, coming to stand over the still sitting Urahara. "Or perhaps it's his soft spot for humans? He's certainly showed that before."

"I think he only turns human so he can be around Ichigo and Shiro." The petite woman said with a shrug, looking from Urahara to the scientist and back. "Besides. Does it really matter what he looks like when human?"

"If only to confirm or disprove what you are claiming, yes it matters." Urahara mumbled, still futility flipping pages in the book.

"Trust me. It's him." Rukia hated to admit it. She hated the dangerous monsters that lurked the forest and killed the villagers, she hated the monster that had seemingly attached it's self to the twins. Too her, the werecat was no different than the wolves, but she couldn't deny what was right in front of her face. The creature in the book, the deity that had sacrificed himself and his followers to save the human race from the were-races, was the very same creature that was the blue haired man. And if what these men were predicting came true, they would need his help.

At the same time, knowing that the creature was once a deidad made her all the more wary of him. It made her anger and ire flare. Something like that must have been beyond powerful, which meant that he was probably still incredibly powerful and just that more of a danger. She was convinced the werecat would be the death of Ichigo and his brother one way or another.

"How can you be so sure?" Urahara asked, looking at her with an intensity shining in his normally placid grey eyes. "Has he done something to prove what he is? Who he is?"

"He doesn't have too." Rukia grabbed the book and flipped back to the picture that had been proof enough for her to believe. She had only really seen the creature in his werepanther form once, but it was more than enough. She could never mistake him for anyone or anything else. "Those eyes are impossible to forget"

Urahara stared down at the picture of the beastly god he had devoted years to. After several moments, he made up his mind. Closing the book, he stood from the floor and brushed himself off. "We must find him. We will need his help"

"Don't forget that he must be Fallen by now, Urahara." Mayuri spoke up in his odd and superior voice as he made his way back toward his work area. He rounded his table and began going through the rolled up parchments again, resuming the task he had been busy at before this latest and intriguing development had interrupted.

"What's that mean?" Rukia asked, beginning to feel very out classed. She had quickly learned they were much more than they seemed and every time she thought she had these men figured out they would throw in something new.

Urahara, his fan once again in hand, studied her as if he were looking for something before deciding to elaborate. "To be Fallen essentially means that he has no more followers and therefore doesn't hold the same power he once did. He's not mortal, but he's not quite immortal either, rather caught somewhere between. It's difficult to explain since we have a very limited knowledge." He turned back toward the scientist and began helping him dig through the vast collection of large scrolls before speaking again.

"Even as a Fallen, having his help could prove the difference between surviving this and succumbing to the werewolves. Think of it; a fairly powerful Caster, an Undead and a Fallen Deidad..."

Mayuri spread one of the rolled up parchments out on his table, weighting the corners down and nodding his agreement. Those would certainly make powerful allies and combined with the weapons and serums he had been creating, they may have a chance at ending the war with just this one battle. "How do you propose we go about informing and enlisting them?"

Urahara's blond brows furrowed ever so slightly in thought. He figured Ichigo would be willing to help once he was aware of the stakes, meaning his Undead brother would join, regardless of whether he really wanted too or not. There was still the problem of convincing the werepanther, however. Would a Fallen deidad that had already lost almost everything just to be all but forgotten by the ones he saved really be willing to risk his life for a few lowly humans? The shopkeeper of course knew that the feline had once been very dedicated to his followers, as they were to him, but he had no more and seemingly no more reasons to fight for or with the humans of this age.

Rukia watched as the two strange men laid out another scroll, once again weighting the corners to hold it open on the table before them. Both men had a look of deep concentration on their faces, expressions tense with their thoughts, no doubt trying to come up with a way to persuade the monster, Ichigo and Shiro into fighting at their side.

"Why don't you just ask them?" She mumbled, almost to herself and feeling a little stupid for how simple it sounded. If things were that easy, surly at least one of the rather intelligent people in the room would have thought of it.

When both men looked up at her, pinning her with an intense gaze, Rukia shrank back slightly. They were looking at her like she had grown a second head and it left her feeling out matched yet again, something she wasn't used too.

"What?" The surly young woman shot back at the looks she was receiving. She crossed her arms over her small chest and leveled her defiant gaze right back at them. "He was happy enough to throw himself at werewolves before to defend Renji and I"

••••••

Sunlight filtered through the sheer fabric of the curtains draped over the window in the spare room the two men and the werepanther were borrowing. The warmth of the yellow, late morning glow mocked the bitter cold of the air outside, but it bathed the room in a comfortable blanket and cast everything in a soft light, a great contrast and difference to the feel the room had held last night.

Mostly still in bed because he was comfortable being wrapped in warm blankets and the feline's familiar aura, Shiro rolled over and opened his liquid amber eyes as he felt the other remaining occupant in the bed shift and begin to stir. King, always awake and moving around before he was, had climbed from the bed at least an hour ago and wandered from the room after pulling his jeans on. Shiro had heard their red headed friend's deep voice and the hushed clanging of dishes but had been far too content to stay where he lay and had easily and happily tuned the quiet noises out.

The near-albino, laying on his side to face the bluenette, propped his head up in his hand, his elbow resting on the pillow that had previously been under his head. With a slight smirk, he watched the man slowly rouse from his deep, seemingly much more peaceful round of sleep. The pale human was happy that he saw no evidence of the man's strange ordeal from much earlier that morning, the strange nightmare that had forced the feline into his resurrection while he slept.

Grimmjow, curled up comfortably in a way that only a very flexible person could ever manage, yawned, baring slightly over sharp, white teeth for a moment. Not bothering to slit his stunning cerulean eyes open, the man rolled onto his stomach, subconsciously taking great care not disturb the two men he was sure were still sharing the bed with him. The muscles of his shoulders and strong back bunched and flexed as he pushed his arms under him, lifting his upper body off the bed. A soft and appreciative groan escaped his throat at the subtle stretching of sleep heavy muscle. The blankets slipped and fell away from his toned body as he continued his lazy stretching. The bluenette shifted again, this time focused on working the knots out of his back, and arched the rest of his body away from the mattress in a rather fluid and feline manner, bringing his rear up and bending his upper body low above the mattress.

Shiro's smirk grew to spread from one side his face to the other as he watched, not about to speak up and alert the man to his presence, consequently ruining his lovely image.

If he thought his view was a good one, it was nothing compared to Ichigo's when the Caster chose that moment to open the door and see if either of the men were awake yet. He predictably turned several shades of red, but couldn't have pulled his eyes off the enticing, mouth watering sight if he had tried. Not that he had any intentions of doing so. That would just be silly and a waste of a wonderful view.

Grimmjow groaned again as his spine popped a couple of times, a smile crossing his full, slightly parted lips. He curled his long legs back under him and settled his head on his crossed forearms before lazily opening his eyes. Shiro's leering smirk greeted him and the werepanther arched a single blue brow in question. He heard the door latch shut and lifted his head to peer over his shoulder to see the more colorful twin, the bridge of his nose and cheeks tinted a light shade of red, step toward him. Slightly confused, he turned back to Shiro as the bed shifted, announcing the smaller man's nearly predatory and quiet movements.

"What?" Grimmjow's deep voice, still a little rough from sleep, held an edge of curiosity mixed with suspicion.

If at all possible, the near-albino's smirk grew ever wider. "Nothin'. Ya just paint a rather temptin' picture s'all"

"What are you...mmm..." The feline's question devolved into a soft, groaning rumble as warm hands traced the bare skin of his back, dancing in gentle but decidedly suggestive caresses down his spine and the ridges of corded muscle that ran along it. A pair of petal soft lips fluttered along the back of his neck and Grimmjow tilted his head in offering, allowing the abnormally bold Caster better access.

Ichigo crawled up onto the bed behind the larger bluenette, pressing gentle kisses to the man's neck and jawline while he let his hands wander the impressive and perfectly toned body before him. From in front of the werecat, a hot, moist tongue touched across his torso, starting at his belly button and slowly trailing molten lava up and between the prominent ridges of his abdominal muscles. One of Shiro's hands slowly trailed in the opposite direction, heading ever lower at a teasingly slow pace.

That sinful tongue ran under the ridge of Grimmjow's pectoral before finding it's way to a pert nipple. A deep, rumbling moan escaped the feline's bared throat. Harsh teeth found their way to his ear, nipping and scraping along sensitive skin, and pulled a pleasurable hiss from the bluenette. Long fingers wrapped around his partially erect member, drawing more sounds from the normally dominate man as Grimmjow thoroughly enjoyed the pleasurable torment the two devious humans were putting him through.

Ichigo continued teasing the werecat's neck and jaw, running his fingers through silky, blue strands and tugging gently, just enough to force the man to tilt his head back further. It didn't take long for Shiro's skilled hand to work him to his fully engorged size, consequently drawing a bit of his aggression back to the forefront oh his hazed mind. Grimmjow reached one hand above and behind his head, locking his fingers harshly into an orange mane and pulled the Caster forward, making the man bend over his body. He connected their lips in a searing kiss, his tongue peeking out to swipe across pink lips before growing bold and delving into the delightful tasting cavern.

Now that the man seemed throughly distracted, Shiro smirked and slyly stuck his fingers in his own mouth, carefully and completely coating his digits before pulling them back out. Looking up to make sure Ichigo still had the feline busy, the pale twin reached down and teased a single finger at Grimmjow's entrance.

The man stiffened slightly at the unexpected feel of a something gently running across the seam of his cheeks, but didn't try to stop Shiro. Taking that as a good sign, the near-albino sat up slightly, lowering his head so that he could teasingly lick up the side of Grimmjow's cock, standing proud and thick with the cat's arousal.

Grimmjow's deep moan hitched and took on a slightly whining tone as a single finger delved into him at the same time Shiro licked his way back down the cock in front of him.

Ichigo eagerly swallowed the sound, not braking the kiss as he forced Grimmjow to lay back flat. The orangette quickly undid the button to his jeans as his own erection pressed against the rough fabric. He let his loosened pants fall to the floor and kicked them out of his way, happy that he had had the sense to close the door before approaching the bed.

Climbing over top of the prone feline, the Caster straddled his chest leaning over to keep the bluenette's lips fully engaged. Ichigo grasped the man's wrists and held them above his head, leaning more of his weight on his hands to keep Grimmjow pinned to the bed.

All the while Shiro continued to work his hand in slow thrusts while he wrapped his pale lips around the head of the werecat's cock, smirking at the noises that escaped the man even with Ichigo keeping his mouth occupied. The near-albino added a second finger as he sucked down the length in his mouth, delighted with the strangled curse the blue haired man rewarded him with.

Grimmjow began struggling slightly in Ichigo's grasp, not really trying to escape but unable to hold still any longer. His hips jerked as he desperately tried to keep from either thrusting up into the hot mouth engulfing him or thrusting down onto the teasing digits inside him. He growled, the sound something similar to a moan, and pried open darkened blue eyes.

A third finger was added, further stretching him. Grimmjow's back arched away from the bed, easily lifting the smaller Caster still sitting atop him. Finally breaking the messy kiss, he let his head fall back, baring his teeth in pleasure as he gasped quietly.

Ichigo felt his cock twitch at the erotic sight right before his face as the powerful man writhed below him. Biting his full lower lip, the Caster looked over his shoulder and turned dark, chocolaty orbs on his twin. The paler man locked eyes with his King as he released Grimmjow's member with a quiet pop. He licked his pale lips suggestively, still looking up at Ichigo as he sat up and pulled his fingers from the man below them.

Grimmjow whined at the loss of the heat wrapped around his achingly hard member and the fingers that had been thrusting inside of him. He struggled a little harder in the Caster's grasp, drawing the human's attention back to him in the process. Warm hands spread his muscled legs wider while Shiro lined up.

He could have easily over powered both of the two humans had he the mind too, but damn was he enjoying their combined dominate sides.

With slow, careful motions, Shiro thrust forward until the head of his own cock pushed past the ring of tight muscle and he heard a sound of discomfort come from the cat. He watched Ichigo lean forward again and press gentle kisses to the feline's creased brow while he still held the man's arms pinned above his head. After a moment, Grimmjow began relaxing, his breaths already coming in little panting puffs. Shiro rocked forward, slowly sheathing himself the rest of the way in the man's tight heat. His moan was matched by the bluenette's own sound of pleasure as he came to a halt once again.

"Ahh...F...fuck..." Grimmjow's deep baritone was breathy and heavy with lust. He tilted his hips, forcing Shiro deeper inside of him.

The near-albino took the hint and, gripping the bluenette's hips in pale hands, slowly pulled back before snapping his hips forward and flush with Grimmjow's. A slow, steady pace was quickly found, drawing pleasurable sounds from Grimmjow and Shiro both.

Darkened, navy eyes swirled with need and lust as they looked up at the Caster's face, slightly flushed with arousal. Grimmjow pushed against the smaller man's grip, whining quietly when Ichigo didn't relent and give him his hands back. "I...Ichiiigo..." He moaned as Shiro continued thrusting into him. His voice was quiet, an almost pleading edge to it but it still held the dangerous power of a creature used to being in control. "let me taste you."

Ichigo groaned at the needy command and scooted forward on the man's broad chest, finally releasing Grimmjow's arms. Strong hands quickly wrapped around his lean hips, and before he could react, his hard member was engulfed by the bluenette laying below him. Grimmjow greedily sucked his cock, keeping rhythm with Shiro's pounding thrusts.

The werepanther moaned his pleasure as Shiro's deep thrusts found his prostate, the sound muffled but immensely pleasurable to the orange haired man. Ichigo worked the fingers of one hand into silken blue while he used his other to support his weight beside the panther's head. Grimmjow's grip on his hips tightened as he gasped, releasing Ichigo's member at a particularly well aimed and powerful thrust from Shiro.

Shiro, a slight smirk on his features, pulled one of the werecat's legs over his shoulder before repeating his brutal thrust. The feline cried out, his voice still deep and commanding even in the throws of relatively submissive passion.

Ichigo used the hand wound through messy blue hair to guide the panting feline back to his throbbing member. Grimmjow looked up at him through heavy lids and eagerly took him back into his furnace like mouth. One of the hands that had been gripping Ichigo's hip worked it's way around, a single finger dipping between round cheeks.

The Caster arched and gasped as, without preamble, that teasing digit plunged deep into his entrance. Still sucking in time with Shiro's increasingly brutal and fast pace, Grimmjow wasted very little time adding a second finger and pumped his hand back and forth as he moaned and gasped around Ichigo's cock.

"Shh...shit..." The breathy, moaning curse reached sensitive ears, but Grimmjow was too preoccupied to notice which of the humans it came from. Shiro wrapped his hand around Grimmjow's straining member, already slicked with beads of precum, and began pumping at an agonizingly slow pace compared to his pounding thrusts. The near-albino felt the man's hard cock pulse in his hand and he knew Grimmjow was close.

Heat pooled in his gut and moments later, white pulsed through Grimmjow's vision as he came harder than he had in quite a while, his seed splashing across Shiro's milky abdomen and hand. A deep moan worked up his throat as he rode out his release.

The vibrating sound was enough to push Ichigo over the edge and the Caster nearly came a second time as he panted, watching Grimmjow eagerly swallow his seed before releasing his spent cock.

At nearly the same time; Shrio cursed, thrusting deep one more time as tight heat constricted and pulsed around his member. His lean hips jerked as he released deep into the feline before falling forward and bracing his weight on shaking arms, planted on either side of Grimmjow's hips.

Grimmjow pulled his fingers from Ichigo and wrapped his powerful arms around the smaller man's waist, holding him as the three panted and fought to catch their lost breath, enjoying the euphoric haze they shared.

After a few moments, the three began to move around. Ichigo pulled loose from the werepanther's grip and slid off the bed to stand beside it. A very sated Grimmjow let his head fall back onto the pillow, his arms spread wide as he contemplated another nap after the rather satisfying and taxing round of sex.

Ichigo smirked at the pleased look on the man's angular features and pulled his boxers back on. He leaned forward and captured Grimmjow in a languid, sweet kiss before parting to pull his almost too tight jeans back on in preparation to rejoin Renji.

Reluctantly, Shiro too climbed to his feet and began readying for the day. As much as he would have loved to, it just wouldn't do to stay in bed with the enticing feline all day while they were supposed to be visiting Renji. He gave Ichigo a quick kiss before strolling over to where he had deposited his clothing the night before and quickly dressed himself.

"Ya comin', kitty cat?" Shiro asked, his lilting voice playful as he strode to the door, looking over his shoulder to see Grimmjow still laying across the bed and his brighter copy trailing close behind him.

"Yeah yeah" Grimmjow huffed in a good natured way, ignoring the 'kitty cat' comment. He stretched his arms over his head before sitting up as Shiro opened the door. He stood from the bed, wincing slightly when his first step sent a dull pain shooting through his spine and a tell tale ache presented it's self. A grin on his face, the feline grabbed the borrowed shorts from a night stand and quickly pulled them on, hiding his lower half as was apparently a necessity around most humans.

The three wandered out of the room and down the hall to find Renji standing in the kitchen. The red head looked up from what he was doing, a genuine smile crossing his tattooed features at seeing that his guests seemed to be in good moods. It was nice having them over just to hang out for the night, something that would definitely have to happen more often. He went back to the task at hand; making breakfast, before he spoke up.

"I don't have any raw meat that's not frozen... So I hope cooked will be ok" He said, a smile pulling at his lips as he glanced up at the feline turned man still standing in the door way to the kitchen area, still half in the hall way.

The twins entered the kitchen, pushing passed him like it was nothing, even knowing that he was more than a mere man. Had Renji not seen the way the werecreature interacted almost gently with the twins several times already, he wouldn't have believed it to be possible. In a strange way, it was almost as if the werepanther might have...loved the two men he seemed drawn to. It showed in the way he acted around them, a complete contradiction of his obvious wild and aggressive nature.

Shiro slid into a seat at the table and stifled a yawn behind a pale, black nailed hand while Ichigo approached Renji and offered his help. He wasn't a master chef or anything like the red head, but he knew his way around a kitchen well enough from living on his own for so long and taking care of himself and his brother.

"I think I can deal with that just this once" Grimmjow answered Renji's teasing statement, his smirk showing in his voice.

"Good, it's about ready then" Renji told the three men, picking up the pan and pulling four plates from a cupboard. He left a fifth plate on the counter just in case and began preparing the plates as Ichigo poured drinks. The red head smirked as he realized three of the glasses held juice while one held milk.

"Hey, Red, where's the midget? She never came back last night?" Shiro asked as he accepted a glass from King, downing half in a single, quick gulp.

Renji had told them Rukia had left sometime after he had departed for town to meet them and that she hadn't said anything about it to him. He didn't know where she went or why, though he had just assumed she had probably been upset about the prospect of having the werepanther staying with them and had fled to her brother's home while they visited.

The red head shrugged half heartedly. "Nope, she's probably upset about something or another and wont be back for a while. Or her crazy brother wants her to practice her swordsmanship again." He avoided speaking his theory out loud, not wanting to offend or upset either of his guests, though he was sure they probably filled in the blanks on their own. Rukia may have done very little to hide how she felt about Grimmjow and Shiro when they were around, but that didn't mean he had to be rude and tell them what she already hinted at.

The near-albino snorted and stood to help finish setting the table for what was sure to prove a delicious breakfast. Shiro would never understand Renji's skill in cooking, of all things, or where he had picked it up. The red headed, tattooed man certainly didn't look like the culinary type, but he sure as hell wasn't about to complain.

With the table set, the room smelling of perfectly cooked foods, Renji was about to beckon the bluenette who still leaned against the door way into the room to sit down with them when a loud thumping sounded throughout the house. All four jumped at the unexpected noise, Grimmjow turning where he stood to look at the front door just to his left.

The thump turned into an insistent knocking as someone pounded on the front door. Blue brows arched, the werepanther turned back to look at Renji, the owner of the house. The red head frowned and wiped his hands on a towel before stepping passed the feline and approaching the door, hoping all was ok and he wouldn't be getting bad news.

He opened the wooden portal, Grimmjow standing behind him. The bluenette's feline heritage helped his curiosity get the better of him and he peeked around the red head to see who was outside.

A tall figure, backlit and shadowed by the morning sun behind him, blocked most of the door way. Inky black hair hung loosely about his shoulders, lacking the sadistic spikes that had been present the first time Grimmjow had seen him but their was no mistaking who the man was. A wicked grin slowly spread across scarred, tanned features as Grimmjow let a deep, intimidating growl fill the pregnant and heavy silence.

The werepanther, in a protective gesture, grabbed Renji's shoulder in a harsh grip and forced the confused red head behind him. He rose to the balls of his bare feet, prepared for anything the damn brute might throw at him this time and wary of the sword he more than likely carried under his long coat. The feline bared over sharp teeth and snarled, pupils beginning to elongate in their sea of cyan iris as Grimmjow edged toward his resurrection in anticipation of the battle to come. He had underestimated the human the first time, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

The taller man, his single visible eye locked on the smaller bluenette chuckled in a dark glee, hoping that he would finally get his much anticipated rematch, before he was interrupted by a friendly, sing-song voice coming from behind him.

"Seems you two have history, perhaps letting Kenpachi lead the way was not a wise decision"

The brute labeled as Kenpachi rolled his single eye, grin falling to a slight frown of boredom and stepped away from the door to reveal a smaller, equally as odd blond man.

"You must be Grimmjow, La Pantera, then" The strange man said, a fan hiding most of his features but the excited smile that must have marred his face showed in his calm, grey eyes.

The feline didn't answer the man in words. He bared his teeth again and snarled, nostrils flaring as he caught the tangy, dangerous smell of silver. Anyone who carried silver on them on a regular basis must have known and understood what werecreatures were. The silver hidden on their persons coupled with the knowledge of his title made these men seem even more dangerous and put Grimmjow on edge.

The blond was unfazed, his eyes widening slightly but not in fear, rather in excitement and hope. It seemed that this man may indeed be the missing Fallen deidad.

"Would you be so kind as to grant us entry?" Urahara asked the aggressive and weary blue haired creature before him. "We have much to discuss."

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><p><strong>Well, what do you guys think? Hope you enjoyed~ *<strong>if you're just going to complain about Grimmjow bottoming, please don't bother. He's hot as hell when he's dominate, but he's sexy as sin when he's being dominated X'3** ***

**ALSO, as suggested, I shall be doing a Q&A!  
>So ask away, everyone! It can be any random question you can think of; about this story, about one of my others (I wont post spoilers though, so if it's about the ending of one you may not get an answer) things pertaining to my writing, things not pertaining to my writing, whatever you would like know!<br>I will post the questions with the answers in a seprate file later on!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Seriously, I love all of you.**

**Anyway~  
>Enjoy!<br>**

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><p>Cool morning air sifted through the open door way, the winter sun's feeble strength unable to cast enough warmth to seep through the atmosphere. The bitter breeze whistled through the streets and blew little eddies of snow about, some of it whipping passed the two men standing in front of Renji's home, entering the warm house to melt and wet the floor, forming small puddles around the four sets of feet surrounding the threshold. No one noticed the cold, not the four standing in the house, nor the two standing outside. All was eerily quiet, the only noise permeating the house was the enraged snarling coming from a barely restrained predator, a creature with nothing more than revenge driven murder on his mind as recognition dawned and a threat was perceived.<p>

The instant Grimmjow's first growl had crawled up his throat, threatening and furious, Shiro and Ichigo had raced from the kitchen to see what was going on, meals forgotten on the table. They could feel the anger and rage radiating from the bluenette, swirling through the currents of the air with his guttural warnings and seeping into their very beings. As if feeding on their feline companion's feelings, both humans felt an almost inhuman rage well in them even before they had rounded the hallway entry to see who was standing at Renji's door.

They didn't need to know what Grimmjow was snarling about to trust his instincts and know that they wouldn't like it either, but the twins' anger was only doubled when they caught sight of the beast of a man that they had seen once before under frighteningly similar circumstances. Ichigo and Shiro had wasted very little time in jumping into action, not willing to see the man with the strange sword clash with the werepanther they had befriended for a second time.

With no words needing to be said between the two, Ichigo had grabbed hold of Grimmjow, forcing him away from the dangerous being that had so severely injured the feline before. The runes inked into the tender flesh of his wrists tingled and pulsed slightly as the Caster drew his power close, readying for a counter attack to back up his twin should it be needed. Shiro placed himself between his beloved brother and the feline, knowing that Renji had already been pushed from harm's way by Grimmjow. Guns were drawn, quick as the human eye could follow, and trained on the threat, a glare and sneer on the Undead's handsome but fearsome features.

"Oh my..." Urahara, hands held non-threateningly in the air as a sign of surrender and peace, stared down the barrel of a very shiny hand gun with wide eyes, the weak sunlight more than enough to glint from the high polished and well cared for weapons. He hastily began explaining as threats and accusations were uttered in a lilting, distorted voice. Had he realized sooner that the werecreature Kenpachi had attacked nearly a week prior was the very same they were facing now, he would have left the man at the shop. "He was only pretending to assist the wolf, we needed to infiltrate and collect information to confirm ours suspicions"

The steady rumbling growl deepened in pitch and rose in volume, it's threat and meaning obvious even without words. The only thing keeping the blue haired man from ripping into the odd shopkeeper was the Caster's steady hand laid flat on the feline's bared chest, a gentle gesture that Urahara had little doubt was the only thing keeping him alive at the moment. A truly terrifying thought, if not exciting; there was no way the smaller human would be able to hold the beast back if the bluenette decided to attack.

Shiro sneered, curling an ashen lip in his own seething outrage. "So ya gotta try killin' an innocent man in his own home wit' a damn sword? Or torture little girls an' nail 'em ta trees ta get yer information?" He spat out at the men standing in front of him, his haunted gold on black eyes blazing with hatred that made them dance and churn dangerously in the morning light.

Shiro trained his silver plated guns at the two strangers, his hands as steady and unwavering as his fiery gaze. As the larger of the two shifted slightly, the man who had attacked Grimmjow nearly a week ago, the near-albino's gaze snapped to his form, watching every move he made. This man wouldn't get the chance to hurt someone he cared about again, he would make sure of it. The man would be dead before his sword could taste panther flesh again.

"I would gladly sacrifice a life or two in order to put an end to those monsters." The big man said, his voice deep and rough as he looked over Shiro's shoulder to stare at the blue haired man he knew to be a werecreature. Still, he didn't make the effort to step passed the blond or nearer to the Undead. He had felt the man's bullets before and knew the ghost wouldn't hesitate to shoot a second time.

"What he means is that sometimes one must preform regrettable actions in the interest of preserving a greater number and saving lives" Urahara scrambled to explain before Kenpachi got himself killed. Or the both of them killed. It was obvious that while he didn't know all the details, what the Undead and the bigger man were talking about wasn't going over well. He really should have realized something was off when Kenpachi had so willingly volunteered to accompany him.

When the ashen twin only sneered in his direction but didn't threaten or shoot, Urahara seized the opportunity to continue explaining while he could. Somehow, he hadn't pictured his first meeting with the Fallen deidad going quite like this.

"You see, we have heard rumor that Baraggan, a werewolf, may be trying to start another war, a repeat of the past, a war that would..."

Urahara's sentence was cut short by a quiet curse and he looked passed the pale man with the guns to see the werepanther, still in his human form, launch passed the Caster that had been keeping him back. The shopkeeper, grey eyes wide, tried to step back, but still didn't dare remove his hands from view as the feline pushed the Undead away from the door way. Urahara vaguely noted how gentle the push had been before a big hand latched onto his dark green cloak. He stared up into burning cyan eyes with elongated pupils and watched seething emotion dance in their obviously inhuman depths.

Grimmjow snarled in the odd blond's face, uncaring that he was giving his identity away. He hardly heard the Caster's words or Shiro's protests and questions. He had hardly even realized he was moving until he was standing before the strange man, the implications of his words beginning to settle in his racing mind. Baraggan's words, hissed at him in threat during the previous night's skirmish, flashed in his memory.

_'...you'll die with your precious humans this time...'_

Shiro and Ichi didn't know what was going on, they hadn't been alive to witness his downfall, they didn't know what the war's purpose had been, but Grimmjow knew.

'..._ your precious humans...'_

How could he not understand?

None too gently, the bluenette fisted a hand in the blond's dark cloak and yanked the human closer, ignoring the startled yelp from the man and the surprised gasps from his humans. Snarling, the werepanther slammed the blond into the wall near the door, the wood paneling of the solid structure shaking under his brute strength.

A sword hissed from a scabbard, but no attack was forthcoming as the metallic click of the hammers being drawn back on twin pistils followed Kenpachi's movements. Two hand guns were trained unwaveringly at him, a resolve and threat readily swirling in the Undead's eyes.

Grimmjow didn't know how this man could have known about that war, how he could have possessed knowledge of an event that had taken place long before this man had been born, knowledge that even the oldest of the race had forgotten, but he knew what the blond was implying. His humans...his Ichigo and Shiro...another war to destroy and enslave humanity.

Urahara's hands finally fell from their peaceful gesture to wrap around the bigger man's wrist as he was held nearly off the floor by the strength of the creature's single arm. He didn't struggle to get out of the hold however, that would have been a futile effort and he knew it. What Rukia had told him was true, he could see what she had meant now that he was faced with the living, breathing beast. The truth was there in the creature's eyes, just as she had said. This was the Fallen deidad from so long ago. And he understood the creature's outrage and fear.

"No." It was a single, growled word, too quiet for anyone other than the blond to make out. A denial of what Grimmjow knew the man was trying to say. He had lost everything once, and now this man was telling him it may happen again.

"I'm afraid it's true..." Urahara said, his voice loosing the sing-song, playful quality now that they were finally getting to business. "Our information indicates that he wishes to try annihilating the human race once again. That is why I am here; too seek you out and hopefully gain your assistance in the second Winter War."

The blond looked passed the large bluenette that still had him pinned threateningly to the wall, the pressure on his chest nearing a painful level as the big fist clenched in the front of his clothing tightened with emotion. Urahara locked gazes with the Caster, his grey eyes shimmering and showing his sincerity and near desperation as they pinned molten sepia. "We will need all the help we can get."

Ichigo stared at the strange blond man, his expressive brown eyes wide as they flitted over to the werepanther's form and back. He could see Shiro's haunting gaze flicking between the man he held at bay with his guns and Grimmjow, the same confusion as shone in the Caster's gaze reflected in their inverted depths.

Grimmjow snarled and bared his teeth, looking white and too sharp for a human. Ichigo could practically feel the man fighting not to veer into his resurrection, fighting the urge and his untamed instincts not to tear into the man before him. He watched as the bluenette's entire body tensed, corded muscle flexing even as he stayed deathly still, staring down the blond man in his grasp.

Finally, after several seconds of stunned and confused silence, the Caster found his voice. "Grimmjow, what's he talking about?"

The bluenette's head whipped around, eyes wild and shinning with something he had no name for, to look at the Caster as if something had just struck him before Grimmjow turned back to the blond. His grip tightened further, knuckles whitening as he unconsciously put even more pressure on the pinned man's chest, pushing him into the wall hard enough for the wood to creak slightly at the pressure. "explain."

The man winced and hissed a quiet breath between his clenched teeth, pain flashing through his features as his hands tightened around Grimmjow's wrist but still he made no move against the bigger man, not even trying to lessen the pressure on his chest that threatened to make breathing difficult.

The tall raven haired man shifted, his grip around the hilt of his sword tightening as he drew it further from the scabbard at his companion's pained expression and sound. Shiro sneered at the man. "Ah ah..." He uttered quietly in warning, his distorted voice taking on a dark and dangerous edge as he gestured with one of his silver plated pistols. "Don' give me an excuse ta make ya taste silver"

The blond in Grimmjow's grasp glanced toward his companion, his grey eyes conveying his seriousness. "Now Kenpachi, do put that thing away" He bid his partner in a soft voice, wary of how the dangerous creature in front of him would react as he spoke. "I believe we may have better luck speaking on friendly terms without it"

Kenpachi's single visible eye stayed locked on his blond companion for a few moments before it rolled and he released the hilt of his sword, letting the jagged, pitted blade slide back into the scabbard. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and outwardly looked bored with the whole situation, though the gleam in his dark eye showed he was ready and alert.

"Why don' ya just give tha' ta me?" Shiro asked, his question sounding more like a demand than a request. He leveled his gaze on the taller man, unwilling to back down and showing that he wasn't afraid of the brute, nor was he afraid to shoot him.

The man looked as though he was going to protest before he was cut off by the blond in Grimmjow's strong and unrelenting grip. "It seems a reasonable request and we have much more important matters at stake than your pride. Do give him the sword."

The man hesitated, looking rather unhappy about the prospect of giving up his weapon when he may very well need it, surrounded by deadly beings as they were. When the blond raised a slim brow in his direction, Kenpachi finally complied. With slow, deliberate movements he unstrapped his sword belt and carefully handed the belt, sheath and sword to the Undead in front of him.

"Now, might we get to business?" The strange blond asked gently, still clutching at the bluenette's wrist and standing on his toes against the wall.

••••••

The den was quiet and peaceful, the occupants deep in safe and secure slumber as the winter sun rose ever higher above the horizon to cast the forest territory in a chilly, golden glow. A lone wolf crept down the earthen corridors, slinking along the wall as if afraid of being caught. Canine ears twitched to take in every little sound that echoed in the dimly lit area, the muted sounds of the Pack at rest. Sharp eyes watched for shadows or other silent visitors awake at this odd hour, roaming the halls and searching out the shadowed door ways, finding nothing.

Lilynette had nothing to fear as she crept around her own den, surrounded by members of the reformed Pack, Starrk's loyal followers. There wasn't a single werewolf within the Pack's ranks that posed a threat to her, yet she slunk against the cool earthen walls and nervously stalked the corridors as she debated awakening her snoozing older sibling.

Starrk had arrived back at the den hours ago, just after she had, as the sun had just been beginning to show it's self and send the nocturnal creatures into hiding for the coming day. He had little to report; evidence of strays nearing and even entering their territory, but none in the immediate area and none of significant power. Nor had any of them been originals; turned humans one and all, nearly worthless unless in droves, Starrk had been surprised that they had even survived the transformation, judging by their signature scents. He had said most of them seemed to carry the madness that once-humans possessed when they were unable to cope with the heightened senses of a werewolf. It was rare for such hapless creatures to live, but when they did live, as short as that life span usually ended up being, they lacked the reasoning and intelligence of either the were-species they were changed into, or of the human they had once been. They usually became mindless drones set on attacking and eating anything they were capable of catching.

Starrk had long ago forbidden lower ranking member from changing humans for that purpose, but it seemed Baraggan didn't have a problem with not heading his warnings from when the old male had still been part of the Pack. In fact, it seemed the rogue was going out of his way to find humans that were strong enough to survive, but not strong enough to become true, healthy werecreatures that would possess their own intelligence and mind. It was a dangerous game to be playing.

Of course, the young she-wolf knew why Starrk hadn't found evidence of Baraggan or his higher ranking cronies, the ones that posed a real threat to the Pack. The traitorous rouge had been on the opposite side of their extensive territory stalking and eventually cornering her. It only stood to reason that the male's small pack had been somewhere near by, though she hadn't run into them and as far as she knew, neither had the werepanther.

Still shaken from her unexpected encounter with two very deadly and opposing creatures, the she-wolf neared her sleeping sibling's chambers as she debated reporting to him what had happened. She knew he would want to know of the fight. Starrk would be pleased to hear only the traitor had received any real wounds from the short battle, but she also knew he would be upset that she had fled the den without an escort, that she had deliberately disobeyed what he had told her.

Scared of her Alpha and sibling's reprimands as she was, Lilynette found herself peering into Starrk's room, hesitating in the sleeping wolf's darkened door way. Even as she debated turning back and forgetting the short, chance meeting with the werecat and the rogue, the she-wolf couldn't shake the feeling that it was more significant than she thought it was. Instinct told her that Starrk needed what little information she had to give him, even if she didn't know what that information was or why.

She huffed a silent breath, the air puffing gently through her nostrils and turned to leave. If nothing else, she could wait and tell Starrk of the short battle later, after he had woken up. He was never in a good mood when awakened prematurely and her punishment was sure to be more severe than had she left him to sleep.

As she was preparing to leave the doorway and let the Pack leader have his much needed and much desired sleep, a curious, sleep heavy voice carried to her through the dark, freezing her mid step.

"What is it, Lilynette?" Starrk yawned, his keen grey eyes barely illuminated in the dark room as he looked over at his younger sibling. Her posture and stance showed her nervousness, but an odd gleam shone in her light colored eyes, a gleam that hinted at excitement, adrenaline and fear.

Lilynette flinched slightly, dropping her ears and head in a submissive and apologetic gesture. She watched as Starrk's silhouetted figure uncurled it's self in the shadows and the Alpha sat up, stretching his wiry yet muscled body and yawning before gesturing her over to him. She, of course, scurried over, not daring to go against what he said, and curled up beside the larger wolf.

The moment Lilynette neared him, Starrk could tell something more than just fear was bothering his younger sibling. Dark nostrils flared as he took in her scent, a slight undercurrent of another mingled with her own. The smells were familiar but faint, barely clinging to her fur and his eyes narrowed as he tried to place them.

Lilynette whimpered almost silently, tucking her tail before sitting and facing the Alpha. There was no getting out of it now. "I went exploring while you were out..." The young wolf began in a quiet, almost timid voice. She felt the bigger wolf bridle with expected anger and disappointment, so she continued before Starrk had a chance to stop her. "I stayed in Pack territory! But the traitor ambushed me while I was exploring..."

Starrk's anger toward Lilynette melted away and was replaced by hatred and threat toward Baraggan as she spoke. The traitor would die a horrible death if he had touched Lilynette. He gently grabbed hold of Lilynette's shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Are you hurt? Did he harm you?" His words were growled but the worry easily shone through his anger.

The she-wolf quickly shook her head in answer. "He didn't get the chance, the werepanther stopped him."

"Grimmjow?" Starrk questioned, slight disbelief obvious in his quiet tone. Why would Grimmjow be in their territory, let alone be wiling to throw himself against Baraggan? He had never showed any particular fondness toward any wolf and Lilynette was no exception. The young female had often gotten herself into trouble and tormented the feline in anyway she could. Even with their new truce, he hardly expected the feline to suddenly rush to their aid or get involved with their business at all. And Starrk certainly understood and wouldn't hold it against him.

The Alpha's sibling quickly nodded her head in answer before she continued. "He attacked the rogue from the trees" There was a hint of awe in her voice that had a slight smirk crossing Starrk's features. It must have been something for the young wolf to witness fighting tactics that weren't wolf oriented, something different than she was used to seeing.

The Alpha wolf listened to Lilynette's recounting of the short but surprisingly violent battle. She told him how the old male seemed to know where Starrk and his scouting party was, and that he knew she had been alone and how Grimmjow had somehow crept passed the wolf's defenses through the trees to spring on him from above. The she-wolf told Starrk about the lucky shot Baraggan had gotten in, managing to pin the feline to a tree and how she hadn't been able to stand by and had pounced.

A bit of pride welled in him when he was told that his younger sibling had stood up to Baraggan and helped the feline she had always loathed so much, even though it had been an incredibly dangerous thing for her to do. She was lucky she hadn't been seriously injured, receiving nothing more than a few bruises, and lucky Grimmjow was a tough creature and had recovered quickly.

He eventually learned that Baraggan had fled, limping and bleeding in the snow, back the way he had come, shouting threats to the werepanther the entire way. She couldn't remember the traitor's exact words, she only remembered he had been threatening the cat's life and the humans he was so infatuated with. Lilynette herself had exchanged only a few words with the panther before fleeing back to the den as he had suggested, leaving Grimmjow alone in the middle of their territory, kneeling in the snow.

After Lilynette had finished reporting to him what had happened, including all the details she could remember, Starrk had assured her that he wasn't mad at her anymore, that there would be no punishment for her disobeying him, but warned her against leaving the den on her own again. Next time she may not be so lucky, it was already strange that Grimmjow had been that near their territory, let alone had crossed the border in order to help her.

Starrk told the young wolf to return to bed and watched as she happily and gratefully scrambled up and left the room, her tail swaying gently behind her, no doubt pleased and surprised that she wasn't reprimanded as she expected she would be. The Alpha yawned again, jaw cracking in the quiet room and dangerous fangs gleaming the dark.

Starrk climbed to his feet, stretching as he went, and made his way to his door. The Alpha wolf wandered down the empty corridors in search of his second, padding on silent feet as to not awaken the other sleeping members.

Baraggan's transgressions had been allowed to continue for far too long. His actions against Lilynette had proved he was willing to do anything to get back at Starrk and a desperate creature was hard to predict and inherently dangerous to all around it.

Starrk heaved an annoyed and tired sigh. So much for his sleep. He just hoped the drifting snow hadn't covered too much of the traitorous wolf's bloody trail so that he would still be able to track him and hopefully hunt him down.

••••••

Urahara sat in a kitchen chair that had been dragged into the main room of the red head's house, hands in his lap and visible as he watched the man with blue hair and even bluer eyes stalk and pace the room like a caged predator. Bare feet made not a sound on the carpeted floor and solid muscle rippled under taunt, golden skin. The bluenette's movements were incredibly fluid and graceful, far beyond that of a normal man, but then, that was to be expected. The shopkeeper desperately wanted to see the beast's resurrection, but didn't dare ask just yet, not while they were still discussing such intense and important matters.

Sitting on a couch across from the blond shopkeeper, the Caster glanced over to the bluenette for what had to have been the hundredth time, too many emotions to count showing behind his eyes. He took a deep breath while he wrapped his mind around all that the blond man had told them. It was a tough pill to swallow, but Grimmjow seemed to have all the evidence he needed to conclude that the blond could be right and telling them the truth and Ichigo trusted the cat. The Caster pushed his shoulder length orange hair back and away from his face before he spoke, his voice a little timid in the heavy, silent room. "You're saying there is going to be a war...between the humans and werewolves...?"

The blond man nodded, a soft, slight smile that showed more dismay than happiness resting on his lips. "Yes. There is a rather large group that believes mankind should be second to the much longer lived were-races, that we are inferior and should remain as nothing more than fodder. The task was attempted once before, long ago, but failed because of your friend here" Urahara glanced over at the feline, gauging his reactions to what was being said. It was impossible for the three young men before him to not know what the bluenette was, but he was unsure just how much the creature once known as La Pantera had told them.

Shiro spun around where he sat so that he could look at Grimmjow, some of the cat's words from what seemed like forever ago filtering back through his mind. Grimmjow had broken down in his temple and eluded to a war that had killed his followers and nearly ended him as well. "was this the same war tha'..." His question trailed off as he realized just how sensitive a subject he was asking the feline to tell them about.

"It was" Grimmjow's voice was rough and low as he answered, not needing to hear the rest of the near-albino's question to know what he was asking. He stopped his pacing and turned to pin the strange blond with his otherworldly gaze, his eyes cold and hard as diamond. He couldn't let this happen, not again. He may not have had the faith of thousands backing he and his power, but he was still a threat and still strong and would sure as hell fight with everything he had.

"I will fight, but they stay out of it." He pointed toward the three humans sitting across from the blond and his partner. The werepanther knew the wolves had to be stopped, he knew he had to fight again for the sake of his humans and their kind, but he wasn't going to drag Ichigo, Shiro or Renji into the battle field with him. He wasn't willing to see them harmed or worse.

Urahara matched the Fallen's stare with his own unwavering gaze. He knew he couldn't argue against the bluenette's demands, not if he wanted to live to see and fight in the inevitable battle, but they would need the Caster and his Undead twin at the very least, and the tattooed red head would be useful as well if he had a decent shot.

"Grimmjow...we are going to help as well..." Ichigo started, determination in his sepia gaze and voice.

"Ya can' expect us ta hear this crap an not fight too, 'specially if yer ganna be" Shiro finished his twin's thought. "Sides, ya can' have all the fun a killin' wolves"

Grimmjow snarled, but the expression and sound held no heat or threat, not like when he viciously gave voice to his rage. "This isn't going to be a hunting party, we'll be going against a small army. Creatures that are not nearly so fragile as humans, they don't kill easily without silver, and they will be led by a wolf that has lived for centuries..."

"Well, we have plenty of silver" Renji spoke up for the first time since he had opened the door only to have the large werepanther throw him away from the men that now sat in his home. He looked over at the odd blond. "Aren't you the owner of that weapon's shop?"

"I am." The man bowed slightly without rising from the seat he had been told not to move from, a command he thoroughly intended to heed. "Urahara at your service, and we have the silver ammunition and weapons covered; enough to arm most of the citizens."

"An' King's nearly got his magic perfected so tha' he targets only wolf" Shiro added. Ichigo and Grimmjow could continue working to flush out the Caster's abilities to target only werewolves so that the werepanther would be free to battle without being affected by the crippling magic.

"A Caster's skills would be of great use in this battle...Especially one proficient in the area Ichigo specializes in..." Urahara said quietly, still watching how the bluenette reacted. He could see the protective anger reflected in the man's very stance at is words, like the big man was on the verge of tearing into him just for uttering his agreement. Looking back at the Caster sitting across from him, he addressed the orange haired young man. It was hard to believe that he was as skilled as he was at his young age, and with no one showing him how to do the things he had learned. "I also have books that may be able to help you. They don't make much sense to me, but then, I don't have the natural abilities you have."

"That would be great" Ichigo lit up a bit at that. He had never been able to find much that could offer him some guidance in his arts. Perhaps the references Urahara had to offer would prove the difference between his meager skills and becoming a true Caster, with the power and ability to protect those around him, maybe he would be able to put a halt to this upcoming war before it even started.

Grimmjow growled under his breath, hating that he wouldn't be able to stop Ichigo and Shiro from joining in the battle. He didn't need to be told that they wouldn't sit on the side lines to see it was the truth. The feline had already known that both men could be incredibly stubborn, but their determination in this unexpected situation was nearly palpable. And he couldn't deny what the shopkeeper had said; Ichigo's abilities may end up being a deciding factor in the battle and may end the war.

Of course, where ever the Caster went, his twin would follow and Shiro was undeniably skilled with his hand guns, an expert marksmen. They wouldn't be going against humans and the near-albino wouldn't hesitate with his shots like Grimmjow had seen him do in the past. He would be brutal in his aim, and the red head would no doubt join in. The werepanther had seen the man hold a gun before, he at least knew what he was doing even if he had never really hunted or killed werewolves before. And with the silver the blond shopkeeper claimed to have, you didn't need to hit a vital area, just some place the wolf couldn't tear away before the cursed metal reached the blood stream.

Still, the thought of either of them being harmed nearly killed him. Grimmjow's dreams came flooding back through his mind, every brutal detail crystal clear and in vicious, unforgiving color. The once-deidad forced himself to take in a deep, even breath. The visions were only dreams, nightmares and things of his imagination spurred on by the words Baraggan had snarled at him, words he now understood the meaning of. He would insure that Ichigo and Shiro would remain unharmed during the battle and he would personally be the one to kill the bastard wolf leading the fight.

And then a thought struck him. "I may be able to get the Pack to help."

"You think Starrk would be willing to drag his Pack into a war? Didn't he just considerably thin his ranks after he found that traitor?" Ichigo asked, looking up at his feline companion. He didn't know much about the leader of the werewolf pack they had just entered a truce with, didn't know him as well as Grimmjow knew him, but he did know that the wolf's numbers were down and Ichigo didn't think he really stood to loose much with the depletion of the human race.

"He did, but he remained mostly neutral during the last War... something he has regretted for a very long time. Starrk is much more observant and caring than he seems" There was something in Grimmjow's tone that told the twin's he was lost in thought and memory while he was talking to them, it wasn't bitter or angry, just a touch sad and they knew it must have had to do with his Fall.

"Who's Starrk?" Urahara couldn't help himself, his curiosity was really beginning to get the better of him. It was a name he had heard once before, mentioned by Kenpachi after the fight he now knew had been against the werepanther, but Kenpachi hadn't known who it was either.

"Starrk is the leader of the largest wolf pack in the area" Grimmjow watched the blond's grey eyes widen in surprise. Surely having the Pack back them up would insure victory. "He recently purged his ranks of a traitor that had been plotting to over throw him and take the Pack for his own."

The werepanther made to sit down on the floor in front of the Caster and Undead. Wouldn't Starrk just love hearing that the traitorous male was plotting to nearly destroy the human race. The mutt had probably planned to take the Pack and force it to do his dirty work in the war. Grimmjow leaned back against the couch, positioning himself between where Ichigo and Shiro sat, throwing an arm across the tops of each one's legs and trying to calm himself. He was still keyed up with instinctual and wild rage born of the news of the upcoming war and worry for the men he cared about.

"Ahh, I see" Urahara said, his sing-song tone back as he, unthinkingly, brought his fan back out from his sleeve to hide his intrigued smirk. The blue haired creature sitting on the floor in front of him stiffened, piercing gaze cold and watching his every move. The shopkeeper paused, briefly considering re-hiding the fan before he dismissed the idea and continued speaking. "And this Starrk character is a friend of yours, then? Even though he is a werewolf?"

"Something like that" Grimmjow said, still eyeing the strange man and his odd fan.

"When can we meet with him?" The blond asked behind his fan, his excitement hardly concealed. To think, not only was he speaking with the once mighty deidad he had been searching for most of his adult life, but he may get to meet and speak with a werewolf, and not one of the normal, mindless eating machines he usually ran into, but one that seemed to have history with the panther.

"Nnoitra would never let the two of you anywhere near the Alpha." Grimmjow calmly told the blond. He curled his lip, flashing an over sharp fang in distaste. "You reek of silver."

••••••

Nnoitra snarled as he silently stalked through the dead, snow covered forest. The white precipitation continued to fall in lazy, thick flakes to the ground, settling in drifts around the trunks of trees and fallen logs. It wasn't snowing very heavily, but the fall was steady and already nearly reached the lanky wolf's knees in some places. The second had his doubts that they would find any trace of the blood trail Lilynette claimed the rogue wolf had left behind hours ago.

They had to be close to the area the young she-wolf had indicated, though. He glanced up, lone eye searching for the shadowed figure of his Alpha. Starrk searched several meters away and nearly out of sight, creeping silently through the trees, his nose testing the scents riding the cold air while his eyes scanned the surrounding area. Sensitive ears flicked about, keeping track of the few small animals that scurried about on top of the crust of snow, careful not to come within striking distance of the two dangerous wolves.

Nnoitra suppressed the urge to scratch at the scar tissue around his missing left eye as the bitter wind bit at it unforgivingly, and went back to searching. He scanned the ground, already knowing that whatever blood left behind would have been covered by the blowing snow, lost for them to see or to smell. Tilting his head to the side slightly in canine fashion, the black werewolf raised his gaze, judging about how tall the smaller feline werecreature was. He scanned the dried out bark of the surrounding trees where the snow hadn't drifted to cover it, finally finding something of interest.

The bigger wolf raised his dark muzzle to the sky, letting out a short, low key howl to call Starrk's attention before navigating through the deep snow to the tree in question. Deep, diagonal slash marks cut through the bark, bitting into the wood of the tree. The marks were too close together to be made by a wolf. The talons needed to create these could have only come from the feline and they were much too fresh to have been made during a past battle, the living wood showing through was still green and unweathered by the brutal season.

Starrk trotted up to his towering second's side, shaking the light dusting of snow from his thick, brownish grey coat. He sniffed at the marks cutting through the tree before straightening and glancing around, searching for more markers and signs of the struggle and the direction the traitor had fled.

With as much snow as was coating the ground, it would have been easier to seek out the feline and simply ask him which direction Baraggan had fled in. However, Lilynette had told him Grimmjow had came from the direction of the village. The werepanther no doubt left in that direction as well. Starrk had no desire to see the village, he hardly even remembered what his human form looked like and wasn't about to try slipping from his resurrection now. Unlike the werecat, the Alpha, like most werewolves, wouldn't willingly veer to his human form. Grimmjow was an oddity in that respect, as the feline was in many others.

The Alpha roamed the surrounding area, skipping the direction the village lay in. Baraggan wouldn't have fled that way, nor would he have chosen the direction of Pantera territory. Even with the feline distracted as he was with his humans most days, no creature dared set foot on the fiercely guarded territory for fear the clever creature was stalking about.

Starrk tracked through the snow, scanning each tree, each dried out and leafless bush. Scattered and broken bark jutted from the otherwise flawless snow surrounding the base of a thick tree, blue-black fur caught in some of the crevasses etched into the tree. At least the searching wolves knew they were in the right location.

They continued searching, letting nothing escape their notice. Starrk and Nnoitra set off at slow, steady pace in the direction of the few signs they could find; dried or freezing blood smeared across the trunk of a tree, greying tufts of fur snagged in the brush, anything the traitor had left behind in his scramble to get wherever he was going.

As Nnoitra and Starrk trotted in the direction they were sure the traitor had gone, Starrk rose his muzzle to the sky and released a long, drawn out howl that shattered the silent peace of the cool morning and made his intent clear. The wooded territory fell silent in the wake of his hollow declaration, the few creatures that had braved the snow no longer scurried about. The rodents and few birds that stuck around during the winter season froze, hunkered against whatever shelter they could find, unwilling and fearful to move.

Nnoitra sneered, baring massive fangs. Dark nostrils flared to take in the scent of several strays, the same pathetic werewolves that he and the Alpha had caught hints of the previous night, changed humans that had hardly survived the transformation. He snarled and gave a quiet growl of dislike and distaste as he and the Alpha slowed their trot to a creeping, stalking pace, weaving between leafless trees and through dried, dead brush.

It didn't take long to bring the traitor into view. The injured wolf sat amidst a half dozen, hulking non-originals, a slight, cruel smile curving his greying lips. Blood had dried to mat his aged coat, but none of the gashes looked serious enough to keep him down. The wolves surrounding him snapped at one another for no particular reason, drawing the occasional yelp or whine of pain, hardly noticing the newcomers as they bickered wordlessly.

"If you've come looking for a fight, Starrk, Nnoitra, than you have found one." Baraggan spoke in a quiet, confident voice. His pleased, sadistic smile showed in his tone as all the strays ceased their previous activities, heads snapping around to pin the two originals that didn't belong in their midst. Dulled, lifeless yellow eyes showed nothing but madness driven hunger and a cruel desire to quench their thirst. Scared and torn ears laid flat as the strays bared their curved fangs, snarling at Starrk and his second. Drool hung in thick, slimy strands from jaws, dripping down the beasts' chins and going unnoticed by the pitiful creatures.

"Baraggan...you have gone too far..." Starrk snarled at the rogue wolf as he and Nnoitra dropped into defensive crouches. Starrk positioned himself on Nnoitra's blind side, readying for what they both knew was to come; a fast paced and bloody struggle. Years of partnership and fighting experience allowed them to perfectly compliment each other.

They would win this fight, all three of the originals knew it. The strays were too lost in mindless hunger to think for themselves, too crazed and fevered to take notice of who they were being pitted against, to plan their attacks or coordinate their moves. These were true monsters, the deranged animals humans associated with werewolves. It would be mercy to kill the wretched, unnatural creatures.

Baraggan stepped backward, giving his little raiding party a little more space. As soon as he bid them, the strays would launch at the Alpha and second, they would go into a frenzy, desperate to sate the hunger they could never satisfy. They would die, but that was fine. It was meager sacrifice to potentially injure either of these two Pack members. Both were irreplaceable to the Pack, and should they fall, the Pack would be his for the taking, or at the very least, out of his way.

"This is just the beginning, Starrk" The traitorous male snarled at the Alpha. As the old male turned to leave, his small group attacked the smarter originals. He could easily stand to loose these wolves, these mindless drones. He had an entire army of the maddened strays awaiting his every call and command.

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><p><strong>Be sure to feed the Shadow and tell me what you think~! <strong>...please?...**  
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><p><strong><strong><strong><em>ALSO, I shall be doing a Q&amp;A!<em>  
>So ask away, everyone! It can be any random question you can think of; about this story, about one of my others, things pertaining to my writing, things not pertaining to my writing, whatever you would like know!<br>I will post the questions with the answers in a seprate file later on!******


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm terribly sorry for the long (?) wait for this chapter to be out... It's been a rough week, but I think I've finally managed to push through it  
>Thank you for bearing with me~<strong>

**Oh, and if you haven't checked out _Monsters and Men: Bound_ yet, please do and let me know what you think! You may find it interesting!  
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**Anyway, I'll shut up now~ Enjoy!  
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><p>The traitorous male's stray followers were mindless in every way, driven by nothing other than an all-consuming, unquenchable and insatiable hunger. They fought for nothing other than the chance to feed, their overwhelmed brains able to focus on nothing but their hunger as their unnaturally heightened instincts and senses drove them forward. Even in their superior numbers, they didn't stand a chance against the Alpha and his second. There was no cohesion or working together, no tactical grouping or attacking. The deranged beasts simply lunged, just as happy sinking their cruel fangs into each-other's hides as their opponent's.<p>

Another mindless stray fell to the ground, it's intestines spilling below it to steam and churn in the cold, no longer white snow. The brutish beast desperately tried to scramble to it's feet, hardly caring that it dragged it's insides with it. The beast's hunger was too strong for it to register the pain it should have been crippled by. It's pitiful, dying cries mixed with it's maddened snarling in a sick cacophony of guttural noise as it attempted to lunge at Nnoitra once again.

The large black wolf snarled, baring his massive, curved fangs in threat as the creature fell short and back to the ground at his feet. Nnoitra stooped low, swiftly grasping hold of the beast's snout to keep it's jaws still and planted one foot on it's chest to hold the writhing abomination steady. The beast struggled, it's jaws straining to open in the black wolf's clawed hand and it's own blood drenched hands clutching at Nnoitra's leg, clawing in an effort to remove the weight from it's chest and unpin it's self. The Original easily over powered it's pathetic attempts. Nnoitra jerked the hapless creature's head up and twisted it around, ignoring the protest of muscle and sinew as he drove the beast's head around beyond it's natural range of mobility. The sick crack of bone's and snapping cartilage echoed dully off the dead trees around the site of the small battle.

Nnoitra released his hold on the dead beast's muzzle, letting the large body fall back to the frozen ground with little remorse. The stray twitched, it's brain still firing signals to it's body even as it's severed spinal cord failed to relay the message that it was dead.

These creatures were true monsters in the guise of werewolves, the nightmares that haunted the dreams of human children. They were pitiful and unnatural, humans that hadn't deserved the fate Baraggan had bestowed upon them. Killing them was a mercy and the two Originals kept track of the number of monsters they destroyed, adding their bodies to the count on the traitor's head. Baraggan would pay their toll for them, as well as his own.

Starrk snarled around the throat he clenched under his teeth, the sound muffled but no less menacing as it vibrated through the stray's body. The creature kicked weakly in the tainted snow and slush, claws digging furrows through the deep crimson that stained the no longer pure white. The beast's breaths came in wheezing pants as it's body slowed and it's struggling grew weaker. The Alpha squeezed his powerful jaws shut until he felt his fangs sink past fur and into flesh. Ears laid back and lips curled, Starrk jerked backward, his hands braced against the wolf below him so that it wouldn't move and prolong it's pained existence. He wasn't a cruel creature and held no desire to see these pitiful abominations suffer. Death was the best thing he could give them.

Blood poured to stain the snow anew from the gaping opening in the monster's throat. It gurgled as it tried to draw breath, never ceasing it's hungered snarling as warm liquids bubbled from it's mangled trachea as if from a boiling pot to mix with the frothy drool that dripped from it's fangs. Even as it's body twitched with it's death throes, the dying stray snapped it's saliva coated jaws in hunger at Starrk's towering form before falling still, sickly yellow eyes rolling up into it's head and tongue lulling.

Starrk looked up to watch as Nnoitra finished off a monster that had been crippled and left to suffer in the snow. The beast didn't bother to even so much as whine as it's personal reaper neared it. It simply stared up at the hulking black wolf with dead, fevered eyes as it's head lay in a puddle of it's own slobber and blood. The beast huffed and bared it's teeth as Nnoitra descended upon it.

The Alpha shook his head in a subtle, slow motion, pity and outrage shimmering in his usually sleepy looking eyes. This had to end. Enough people had suffered already; human and werecreature alike. Starrk let his grey eyes wander the now desolate landscape, searching for signs of more strays or that any of the ones laying around he and his second were still clinging to life.

Nnoitra was soon to join him, his task of ending the still living monstrosity's suffering completed. No words needed to be exchanged between them for one to know what the other was thinking about. They had worked closely together for decades, centuries even, and understood the value silence could hold and all that it could tell.

Together, the Alpha and his second took off toward the den at an easy loping pace, unhurried as they lost themselves in their thoughts. Each replaying the short skirmish with Baraggan's strays and thinking about what the old rogue had said. Nothing about this encounter had bode well and it left an ill feeling in the pit of the werewolves' stomachs.

It seemed history always had a way of repeating it's self in the worst of ways.

••••••

Sitting behind the counter of the small arm's shop, the dark haired woman put her head in her hand, elbow propped on the counter top, and absently stared out the window on the other side of the aisles. Urahara and that brute he called a partner, Kenpachi, had been gone for most of the day and she had agreed to look over the shop so long as they didn't mention her name anywhere within their conversations with the Caster and his little, growing group of oddities. She had been forced to explain, of course, but she managed to hide her true relationship with Renji and the odd blond seemed to understand that she didn't particularly care for the Caster's Undead twin or the cat without her outright saying it.

Rukia leaned against the counter, still trying to figure out if she actually believed what these strange people had told her; a war, or at the very least, a great battle between the werewolves and humans. It was a tough pill to swallow. She couldn't deny the existence of the monsters the way most people she knew tried to do, her ignorance had long ago been erased, but still. The notion that these beasts would attempt to eradicate the human race, or at the very least severely hinder it as if they were nothing more than vermin or pests seemed ridiculous if not wholly terrifying to her. Her first thought and gut feeling told her to leave, to flee to somewhere safe like a frightened rabbit and hole up until it's over.

To think that this had been attempted, and nearly successfully, once before was mind wrenching. And the monsters weren't stupid; they would learn from the mistakes they had made with the last war. The werewolves may have fallen from the spot light generations ago but she had witnessed first hand what a single beast was capable of. What could an entire army of the monsters do? She shuttered at the thought.

The young woman was startled from her musings and thoughts by a familiar figure clad in a dark green cloak, odd wooden sandals clacking on the snow covered gravel, walking toward the front of the shop from the near deserted streets. While the man's normal little amused smirk adorned his face, Urahara's calm grey eyes seemed to look directly at her, through the store front windows. He tipped his stripped hat back a bit, further showing his face, like he was trying to convey something to her in that single look, a look that told one thing even as his lips moved in words to someone else about something else entirely. She locked eyes with the man for an instant before another familiar figure walked into view from around one of the surrounding buildings. Then another, and another.

Rukia cursed under her breath and jumped over the counter, the feat not nearly as easy as it sounded with her short stature. She ducked low as she scrambled toward one of the aisles away from view of the front door. She caught Urahara hide a grin behind the fan he pulled from nowhere as she peeked around the corner, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement and mischief, obviously enjoying the tricky situation she was in.

The little bell on the front door jingled cheerfully to signal the arrival of a guest, followed by the blond's sing-song voice as he had way too much fun toying with the people around him, both the hiding female and the men he led into his domain. "Welcome to my humble shop"

Rukia could practically hear the cheeky smile in his voice, taunting on multiple levels of ridiculousness. A deep, rumbling voice murmured, the words impossible for her to make out and sounding none to pleased or friendly. The dark haired woman recognized unhappy tone as the werepanther's and she couldn't help but smirk as she realized that all the silver and weapons must have made the beast rather uncomfortable. Something as simple as a silver fork had been enough to give him pause, though she hadn't understood at the time, her and Renji had quickly learned the reasoning. It only made sense, really.

The small woman peered out from around the shelf she hid behind, peeking at the small group of men. The ease with which the more normal of the group interacted with the monster in their midst disgusted her. He may have looked human at the moment, he even acted rather human at times, but he couldn't hide what he truly was from her; a monster. She was sure the werepanther, no different from the werewolves that attacked and raided human homes and families, would be the death of the people she had once called friends, the people she once cared about. The creature had already corrupted Ichigo further than he had corrupted himself, Shirosaki was already dead to her. Even Renji was falling under the monster's spell, her Renji.

A bitterness rose in the small woman and Rukia clenched her hands into fists at her sides. Perhaps there was still time to save Renji if only she could convince him the feline-like demon wasn't as harmless as he seemed, that he was evil and would only end up hurting them in the end.

As the group of men, led by the blond shop keep, entered the store, Rukia scurried down the aisle, making sure to stay out of sight and keep her footsteps as silent as she could, suddenly fearful the feline's unnaturally keen senses would pick up on her presence. She wasn't prepared for what she must do quite yet, and couldn't risk being caught by the monster.

Urahara diligently led them toward the counter and Rukia sneaked around behind one of the shelves where she would safely be out of sight until the men had disappeared into the lower, hidden portion of the shop and she would be able to sneak away.

Four sets of footsteps announced as the men were led down the short, dark hallway toward the underground entrance. She knew the feline, making five, was following after them, even though she couldn't seem to distinguish the sound of his movements like she could the others, even the giant Kenpachi and Shiro made at least a little noise while they moved about, and both of them were rather odd and unnaturally stealthy and predatory for a human. But the cat...he made not a sound, he gave nothing of his presence away when he didn't want too. Even out in the open, it seemed he could simply vanish when the urge or need arose.

The monster's inhuman silence and killer's ease had a shiver running the length of Rukia's spine. She listened for the thump of the heavy portal located in the flooring to close before she darted toward the door, yanking her hood over her head as she went. She held no desire to be in that shop any longer, knowing that the beast was there and could easily destroy everyone in the room with him. She reached up and held the small bell still while she opened the door and slipped through, out into the cool evening to disappear once again.

••••••

Grimmjow stiffened, his nostrils flared and his shoulders hunched a little more than usual as he trudged behind the strange blond man, Shiro to his left and Ichigo to his right. He could feel both his humans look up at him as he breathed in the ever potent scent of silver, snorting in an attempt to expunge the overwhelming, unwelcome smell from his inhuman senses.

He had been forced back into full human clothing, at least until they were safely hidden within the walls of the shop, and each step closer in that direction only made the werepanther realize just how much silver the blond shopkeeper really had. The feline's every instinct screamed for him to go in the opposite direction of the dangerous metal, especially realizing as it was stocked in such a large quantity. The man hadn't been exaggerating when he had said he had nearly enough to arm the entire village. It made him feel vulnerable and exposed, something he wasn't used to and didn't appreciate. In all, Grimmjow was very uncomfortable and he had yet to even set foot into the odd human's base of operations, nor did he have the want to do so.

His posture showed a bit of his trepidation for those who knew what to look for and the Caster's hand inevitably found it's way into his in an attempt to calm the agitated feline. The gesture was an innocent, almost child like one, but the werepanther was beyond grateful for it and couldn't help but gently squeeze back as he forced his steps to stay steady and not veer or bristle in a very inhuman way. On the werepanther's opposite side, Shiro's face held his customary smirk but he looked up at the bluenette every so often to make sure the man was alright. Practically feeding off the cat's unease, the near-albino kept a wary and alert eye on the two men leading the way. It was quite understandable why Grimmjow would be nervous and it was bound to only get worse once they actually made it into the shop, enclosed in a small space with the cat's bane.

The blond paused in front of a small, unassuming shop. The front held large, open picture windows and looked like any other shop but Grimmjow could already feel the pulse of silver from within like the building had it's own toxic heartbeat and malicious intentions. No doubt a werewolf would never dare set foot near this place.

He bared his teeth as he studied the location, reaching with his senses and investigating and almost wishing he could just wait outside, but he would never leave Shiro, Ichigo or Renji alone with the strange blond and his crazy, sword wielding companion. Grimmjow huffed a quiet sigh, these humans were really spoiling him to the pleasures of a mortal and making him soft. Before he had met Ichigo and Shiro, he more than likely would have simply tore into a man that carried so much silver, eliminating him before he had the chance to become a danger.

A high pitched jingle announced that the blond had opened the door, gaining the undivided attention of otherworldly blue eyes. Urahara smirked behind his fan, able to see the subtle signs of the blue haired creature's unease even if he didn't exactly know the cause. He could easily enough guess it was the unnatural amount of silver hidden within, he knew full well how the material affected a werewolf, however he was unsure if it held the same killing power over the feline. Surely if that were the case the creature wouldn't have been willing to enter the shop. "Welcome to my humble shop" He announced in his cheery way, holding the door open for the other's to proceed him.

"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into this" Grimmjow growled under his breath as he followed after Shiro and Ichigo. Behind him, Renji snorted a quiet chuckle but no one commented on the bluenette's uncharacteristic lack of boldness or nervousness. It seemed he inherited at least a little of a cat's natural skittishness as well as his other feline traits.

"So...I must ask, you see, I am so very curious. Does silver affect you the same way it does the werewolves?" Urahara asked, his normally calm eyes glittering intelligently and curiously below the rim of his hat as he led them around the counter and down the hall toward the entrance to his underground area. He watched the bluenette's nostrils flare in an animalistic way, his upper lip curling slightly to show off teeth that were a bit too sharp for a human's, and feared he had caught a whiff of the hiding Rukia before realizing the man was too focused on the surrounding silver to take notice.

Grimmjow let out a rumbling growl, snorting again in another failed attempt to rid his senses of the overpowering scent. It permeated everything in the most unpleasant of ways. "Not quite." He said a little distracted as he glanced around and took in his surroundings.

Curious as a cat, Urahara noted with a smirk, overly pleased at being so close to the powerful being he had only dreamed of meeting for so long, a creature he had been convinced had died that day so very long ago.

"It can't actually kill me like it does the wolves. Simply halts my natural regeneration and healing. I can still touch it, hold it should I choose, so long as it doesn't pierce my skin it's really just an annoyance more than anything."

Urahara hummed in thought, excitedly filing away the new information in his mind so that he could record it on paper later. There was so very much he didn't know about the very creature he had been seeking out for most of his adult life and he had a million questions he wished he could just throw at the once-deidad.

The blond led the way down the staircase, to the lower level and where his real establishment was housed. He couldn't help but continue his questioning, letting his own curiosity get the better of him. "Does it hurt?"

Grimmjow hesitated to answer so many questions from a human he knew almost nothing about. All he and the twins really knew about the man was that he had an extensive collection of silver and a pair of insane partners; nothing that really made trusting him an easy task. Yet the feline knew that he would have to fight beside these unique humans and it would be safer and more than likely come in handy that they know these things so that they understood his limits. "Touching it burns, but nothing terribly unbearable. Easily enough ignored should the need arise."

"I see...and what about when it pierces your flesh?"

"Yes." Grimmjow growled out, his answer short and fast. He clearly did not plan on going much further with that line of questioning. The werepanther shed the human jacket and shoes, already feeling better once his range of motion wasn't quite so hindered. He could feel the odd blond watching him carefully, curiously and he turned to raise a single blue brow at the man.

The blond seemed to pause and think about his response before turning and heading toward a shelf full of rather old looking, but well taken care of books. As he ran his index finger over the various spines, reading through the titles, some of them not even in his own language, the blond finally spoke up. "I'm terribly sorry, just very curious. You see, I've been searching for proof of La Pantera for a very long time and here you stand before me now..."

When the feline snorted a derisive sound, Urahara chuckled quietly. "Well, a long time for someone with a human lifespan" He pulled a book from the shelf and spun back to face the diverse group of men in his underground facility, a cheerful smile stretching his lips once again.

Grimmjow smirked a bit at the blond's quick realization of what he had said, at least the man that knew of his existence was an intelligent one, not the power hungry kind that would attempt hunting him down. He watched with a wary eye as the shopkeeper, gently cradling an old, leather bound book to his chest, approached the Caster with almost timid steps. The werepanther realized the man was purposefully being cautious as to not make any sudden move that could be mistaken as aggression toward either of the young men the cat was so obviously protective over. This Urahara character truly seemed an intelligent and observational man, an increasingly rare thing in the human race.

Satisfied the man wouldn't be a threat to his humans, the feline finally allowed his natural curiosity to lead him over to the extensive shelves that lined the walls and made avenues through a large section of the visible area. He sniffed about, curling his lip slightly as he found that nearly everything in the blond man's possession reeked of silver, even below where the actual weapons shop was located. As he worked his way further back on silent feet, the murmurs of his humans and the ones they had just met earlier that day drifting through the still air, Grimmjow came upon a work table. Vials full of various colored liquids, tools and equipment, papers and hand written notes littered the surface. He glanced at some of the notes, but avoided the strange vials, having no desire to test his theory about what was inside. He assumed this was the strange scientist's work area; the man Urahara had said developed new kinds of weapons and such for combating werecreatures. The human himself seemed to be absent, however.

Grimmjow made his way back toward where Ichigo, Shiro and Renji were now crowded around a small table. Shiro and Renji looked curiously and expectantly at the Caster, even the shopkeeper was watching the orange haired young man as he peered down at an open book.

"Well, wha' da ya think, King?" Shiro asked, his watery voice curious and slightly amused, already expecting that he wouldn't get an answer. Ichigo continued to stare down at the book, his expressive, warm eyes wide as he scanned line after line of text, completely absorbed in what he was reading and oblivious to the world around him. The Undead chuckled softly and gently, lovingly toyed with a lock of bright orange hair before turning around and leaning against the edge of the table so that he could look after King while the man did his thing. Now that he was concentrated, he would probably be lost in his book for hours.

"Cat."

Grimmjow bared his teeth at the giant of a man as he began erecting his raven hair into the recognizable, sadistic spikes he had worn the first time they had clashed.

"Why don't ya show us that monster you're hiding, eh?" The man's gravely, normally bored drawl showed a bit of excitement as he addressed the feline. Kenpachi let a twisted smile slash his scarred features in half, looking overly pleased and baiting the bluenette on with the mere look that sat upon his face. It was an over wide grin that promised a good fight and enough blood to satisfy both participants.

A grin of his own grew across the werepanther turned man's angular face. He tilted his head slightly, the simple motion pointing out his feline nature but certainly doing nothing to lessen his air of predatory danger. Rounded pupils started to slit and Grimmjow started to grasp the bottom edge of the tight fitting shirt he had been forced to wear.

"Oh dear." Urahara mumbled under his breath. "You two are on the same side now, no fighting" He announced, his voice just as cheery yet mysterious as always. He looked back and forth between the two predatory men, unable to stop himself from studying the werecreature's every move and reaction. His fan came out and hid his lower features and he almost wished he could let the two go at each other just so that he could observe the feline in his natural form. However, he guessed neither man would be satisfied until there was a clear winner and no doubt his underground facility would be destroyed in the process, perhaps even the shop above. They also couldn't afford to loose a combatant of the on coming war.

As Grimmjow pulled the shirt off, all too glad to have an excuse to strip out of the uncomfortable, constricting human clothing, he glanced over to see Ichigo and Shiro studying him rather intently. The Caster had paused in his reading and looked up at him with open concern and mistrust for the taller man Grimmjow was preparing to pit himself against. The paler twin had a hand hovering over one of his guns, ready to draw as he curled his lip at the raven haired man. The red headed friend beside the twins looked a little confusedly from the bluenette to the taller, equally as aggressive man. Having missed the entire episode involving the mangled child Grimmjow had recently buried in his forest territory, Renji was a little lost as to why they were so hostile toward each other.

The werepanther let his excited grin tone down to a softer smirk and let his tensed body relax. Pupils rounded back out and sharp eyes panned over to glance at Kenpachi and back before speaking. "Later, we have more important things to worry about right now."

He watched relieved expressions settle onto the faces of the three young men he had accompanied, even Urahara seemed to relax a bit, though the intrigue and curiosity still shown in the shopkeeper's sparkling grey eyes.

Ichigo went back to his book, scanning page after page of text concerning the nature of magic. The small smile tilting his lips showed he was pleased with the feline's decision to forgo any unnecessary violence with the giant of a man. The expression was quickly reversed as he continued reading however, replaced by a concentrated scowl that creased his brow as he fell back into his book. He read about things he had never even heard of, yet somehow knew what they were, like he had some inborn knowledge gifted to him for being born a natural Caster. It was intriguing and he quickly lost himself in what he was doing.

The orange haired young man vaguely registered the watery tone coming from beside him, but dismissed it and continued tuning out the people around him as he realized his twin had been addressing someone else. Around him in the shadowed, hidden section of the shop, a discussion was struck up.

Details were given and knowledge shared. Grimmjow divulged what he could of the battle that had taken place centuries ago, telling Urahara of how the war came to be and how it had been orchestrated. He described the tactics that had been used, the blond all to eager to ask questions and listen to his words. In return, Urahara gave the feline all the details he could of what he and his associates had been able to gather from their meetings with the stray wolf that didn't know he was being spied on. They discussed various ideas and strategies, but in the end, it all circled back around to Starrk and the Pack's willingness to participate. While each person in the room was powerful in their own right, they were still only six humans and a single werepanther. They would be nothing against the much larger number of werewolves they would be going against.

Grimmjow stared disdainfully down at the jacket in his hands, wishing almost desperately that he could find an excuse not to put it back on, but he knew he would need to blend with the humans until he got to the edge of the village at least and he would look more than a little suspicious going out in the harsh winter weather in nothing but a pair of jeans. He curled his lip as he realized he would have to put shoes back on too.

Urahara stood in front of him, still intrigued by the man that seemed to be the Fallen deidad. He couldn't refute the man's unquestionable and extensive knowledge on the matter, and so could no longer bring himself to doubt what and who the blue haired man was. However, he still desperately wanted to see the man in his resurrection. He must have painted a grand picture. And the temple...The once mighty creature's temple and throne must have been something. He would have given almost anything to see them.

As Grimmjow dropped to the floor, easing into a sitting position with almost too much grace for such a simple action, Shiro's lilting voice caught the bluenette's attention with ease. "Where ya goin'?"

"To find Starrk. The quicker this is discussed, the better" Grimmjow answered, not looking up as he pulled the shoes back on, a very unhappy sneer plastered to his handsome features.

Shiro couldn't help the chuckle that escaped and he only laughed harder at the glare sent his way. Patting the air in a placating way, the near-albino hid his smile easily as he focused back on the topic at hand. "King an' I'll go wit ya." He placed a gentle hand on Ichigo's shoulder, not really taking notice as the orange haired twin read aloud under his breath, still very absorbed in what he was reading.

Grimmjow hopped back to his feet in a single, fluid motion. He contemplated making his humans stay here, in the village. He was about to go stalking through Lobos territory and even though they were on friendly terms with the mutts, he wasn't about to trust the mangy beasts. In his opinion, Starrk was the only wretch in the lot that was worth it's weight and trust worthy. On the other hand, he wasn't quite ready to leave the twins or Renji unguarded around these men either. He felt that they were trust worthy, his instincts allowed him to be relatively at ease around them, all things considered, but he would never be willing to risk being wrong when it came to his humans. As he continued trying to make a decision, figuring out which option was likely the more dangerous, a curse falling from a set of familiar lips had his head whipping around to look at his humans.

A split second later, something pulsed in the bluenette's feline mind; painful and sharp, though it only lasted a second. He flinched, ducking away from the source from which it had come by instinct as he bared his teeth and a quiet hiss crawled up his throat.

"Ow, King, what the hell?" Shiro shook his hand where he had touched Ichigo while the man had been immersed in his book. His palm stung as if he had slapped his open hand against a counter as hard as he could to kill a wasp, which he had learned long ago was never a good idea. It throbbed with his pulse, making the white haired man grimace as he looked down at the seated and equally stunned Caster.

At nearly the same time, Ichigo jumped and glared up at his colorless copy. "What did you do?" He questioned, glad that the initial jolt he had felt run the length of his arm didn't persist. It had certainly been enough to startle him, though.

"How was I supposed to know ya were castin'? Ya didn't make it too obvious." Shiro huffed, ignoring the looks he and his brother were getting from the rest of the people surrounding them. It was an odd but comedic situation, an amateur's mistake on both Shiro and Ichigo's part, but it was only going to get more confusing as they continued to think about it.

"I wasn't, I was only reading." Ichigo said, the slight confusion showing on his brow as he glanced back down at his book briefly. "I didn't think I was anyway..." In reality, it was entirely possible he was doing something unconsciously, it wouldn't have been the first time it had happened and that possibility scared him. The last time he had unintentionally casted, what seemed like a lifetime ago now, had ended in the worst of ways.

"And you felt it as well?" Urahara's sing song voice spoke up as the odd blond looked over at the feline standing before him. He had been witness to Grimmjow's little not so subtle reaction to whatever had just transpired between the rather unique twins. It was intriguing to say the least and he was practically giddy over the possibilities that swan through his head.

The once-deidad gave a quick nod, a storm beginning to roil and churn in his blue gaze as he attempted to sort out just what had happened. He had lived a long time and had known several Casters over the centuries. He had a decent knowledge of how magic worked, though Ichigo wasn't a typical type, he was a necromancer; something completely different from the norm and even more rare. He shook his head slightly, snorting lightly before he spoke up, dismissing the event all together. It more than likely wasn't a big deal, Ichigo would continue learning and developing his skills and control over his magic. "Let's get going before night falls and the wolves wake up."

"Good idea." Ichigo mumbled, flipping his book closed after glancing down at the page number so that he would be able to pick up where he left off later. The Caster pulled on his heavy winter jacket, watching as Grimmjow pulled his own borrowed one on unhappily, completely forgoing the shirt he had originally been wearing under it.

"Umm..." Renji hesitated as all eyes settled on him. He had been quiet the entire time they had been there, his thoughts swirling around all the information he had taken in since that morning. They whirled around before settling on one thing. Or one person, rather. He didn't know why he still cared, and certainly didn't understand why he was worried. If anywhere was safe from the approaching war, the Kuchiki manor was the place. Or maybe Ichigo and Shiro's old fortress, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he was suddenly worried about Rukia and wondered if she was alright. She had vanished without a word and had yet to return. "I think I'm going to have to skip, I'm going to go see if Rukia has come home yet" He said quietly.

No one noticed the way Urahara's brows rose fractionally, his eyes darting to glance at Kenpachi momentarily. The blond did well in quickly covering his reaction and busied himself with getting his things around for a trip through the forest, acting as if he hadn't heard the red head at all. It really was none of his business, after all.

"Alright" Ichigo offered their red headed friend a small, understanding smile. "We'll meet up with you later, then"

Renji nodded, sending a short wave to everyone before trotting up the stairs they had descended to get to the underground level. A few short moments later, the bell above the door clattered, audible below ground and announcing the red head's departure.

Within minutes, Grimmjow was leading the way out the door, happy to leave the overwhelming scent of silver behind and almost instantly feeling better once outside in the fresh, cool air. He insisted the humans traverse through the forest on horseback, the beasts being much faster and stronger than a human. If something untold should happen the animals would make their escape easier and quicker while Grimmjow held off the threat that would ultimately be werewolves. Urahara and Kenpachi, on horses of their own, escorted the twins to Renji's home, where they would be able to pick up the Caster and Shiro's own animals. They retrieved their horses from the barn, no sign of the red head nor Rukia, though one of Renji's horses was missing, taken by the red head as he left to search for the missing woman.

Grimmjow led the way through the village, staying mostly in the shadows and several meters ahead of the human's on their horses, doing his best not to attract attention to himself. Even though the citizens didn't realize it, the meager instincts they still possessed, manifest as a simple nervousness, told them to avoid the predator in the guise of a man and they parted around him, giving him space and following him with wary eyes. The Caster and Shiro were given their own wide birth by the rest of the village citizens, especially after word had circulated about a crazed, over protective man in their company.

As the small group reached the village edge, followed only by a few whispered words and pointed fingers, and entered the forest, the werepanther paused in the path to take in the sounds and smells of the surrounding area. Everything held the same hushed silence it usually did when he moved about. The only movement to catch his keen eyes was the fall of snowflakes. No threatening scents rode the air and nothing broke the deceivingly peaceful calm.

Satisfied, the werepanther continued down the path until the sights and sounds of the village were lost before once more divesting himself, hardly noticing the cold of the snow below him or the chill in their. He threw the clothing back at the Caster, all too pleased as most of it landed in the orange haired man's lap unnoticed when the man was faced with Grimmjow's nudity. Smirk tugging at the feline's features, he glanced over toward their guests, curious how they would react and wondering why one's natural state seemed to bother the members of the human race so much.

Kenpachi had a sneer on his features, face turned away to casually glance around the forest on the opposite side of the path. The blond simply continued to watch him with calm, curious eyes as if he hardly even realized the man had just stripped in front of them. The bluenette could see the questions and excited curiosity bubbling within the blond but Urahara still refrained from voicing what he so obviously wanted to.

Grimmjow snorted and turned toward the forest, veering seamlessly and smoothly as he walked off into the shadowed trees. Blue black fur shimmered in the feeble, dying sunlight, ruffled slightly to hold onto the werecreature's body heat. His slim tail whipped about behind him, swaying gently while his ears flicked about, continuing to survey the forest around him. He shook out his fur, happy to be back in the body he preferred, and lifted his nose to the sky, inhaling the scent of his forest and enjoying the light bit of snow that fell lazily to steadily deepen the drifts around the trunks of trees.

The winter season held so many memories and emotions for the feline, things that should have been painful for him, and most of them were, but he had always loved the winter. There was something cleansing and free about the cold, harsh season. The snow wiped everything clean, ridding the earth of things too weak to survive and further strengthening those that deserved it. It was brutal, deadly and undeniably beautiful at the same time.

With a slight smile tugging at his lips, Grimmjow easily stretched his strides, quickening his pace to a light trot. His fluid and graceful strides hardly allowed him time to even sink through the crust of the snow with the faster movements, making him look as swift and sure footed as he truly was to the four men following behind him. The horses snorted and brayed as they were spurred into a faster pace to match, their long legs and heavy bodies allowing them to easily enough trot through the deeper snow.

The werepanther glanced toward the horizon, gauging how long they had until night fell and the wolves began to stir. He growled in his throat, a quiet sound of annoyance more than anything and it went unnoticed by those following behind him. With the days of the cold season being shorter, they didn't have an abundance of time. He quickened their pace further, pleased when all four horses seemed to be healthy and conditioned enough to keep up.

The wind and snow whipped around them as they weaved between the trees, hot breaths pluming in the cool air to quickly be left behind. Grimmjow leapt over fallen trees and dried, ice coated brush with ease, never hesitating or slowing as he continued to keep track of his surroundings and make sure they weren't heading into trouble. They were very near Lobo's territory now but the den it's self was located toward the middle of the extensive area, the cave like entrance resting on higher ground that would probably force them to leave the horses behind, or at the very least, force the men to dismount and walk their beasts behind them.

The blond man's voice reached him through the quiet that surrounded them, broken by nothing other than the horses snow dampened footsteps. "This wolf, he's the leader of the wereswolves, yes? Just how long have you known him?"

In front of Urahara, the feline's head tilted to the side in thought ever so slightly as he continued to run. "Yes, he's the Alpha. We were...acquainted...just after the first war"

"And that was... several hundred years ago, no?" Urahara asked, urging his seemingly nervous horse to run parallel to the large cat so that he could better study the Fallen deidad's reactions and resurrection. The creature was truly breath taking. It wasn't hard to see why the werepanther had been worshipped as a god. He held a feral quality of power and cunning. Urahara had been waiting for a very long time to see this creature, and the blue haired man turned panther certainly didn't disappoint. The creature once known as La Pantera was everything he had always dreamed he would be.

A nod was his answer, the sleek, black feline running beside him with the ease of honed and well maintained muscle and stamina. The panther's breaths plumed from his nostrils, hardly even panting from the fast pace he had set.

"hmmm...quite a lasting friendship" Urahara mused, still surprised to hear that the feline, once so very powerful and still very formidable, and a canine of seemingly equal power and backed by who knew how many wolves, could be friends. Or even make it passed the introduction stage without tearing into each other. "How old are you, then?" The blond couldn't help but ask. He felt he would never run out of things to ask the werecreature beside him.

Grimmjow shrugged as he traversed the snow covered forest, briefly glancing over at the curious man before he went back to watching the forest role by. His words were easy and level, not at all like someone running the speed of a galloping horse. "Twice that at the very least."

"You don't know how old you are?" Ichigo spoke up, suddenly wondering why he had never thought to ask such a simple question. Not that it really mattered much in the long run. Grimmjow would ultimately have to watch as he and Shiro grew old and would still be around long after they were dead, but the Caster was still curious nonetheless.

"No, not really." Grimmjow said, a slight smirk crossing his features at the Caster's own curiosity. To be honest, he had expected these kinds of questions from the Caster a while ago, when the man had called him by his old title; La Pantera. "A near-immortal hardly has a reason to keep track of age."

"oh."

Grimmjow snorted a short laugh at the Caster's reply. He slowed their pace as they neared the mile mark to the den, surprised that they hadn't run into any sentries so near the Pack's resting grounds. Just as he was getting ready to tell them they were nearly there, the werepanther's keen hearing picked out approaching figures. His head snapped around to face the direction they came from at the same time all four of the humans' horses shied away.

One of the horses, Shiro's more aggressive stallion, reared and voiced a loud cry, pawing the air, as a pale colored wolf came into view. It's body was lowered to the ground, it's long strides bringing it toward them with an incredible speed that could only be interpreted as an attack. The werewolf growled, yipping and snapping it's jaws in threat. It leapt, maw wide and lips pulled back, it's clawed hands outstretched and prepared to maul it's target before the human's had time to react to it's sudden arrival.

Unlike the humans, Grimmjow's weapons were always at the ready, never concealed nor needing the time it took to draw them from where ever they had been placed. He voiced a deep, threatening hiss as he flew into action, his own teeth and talons bared. He leapt toward the wolf, his honed muscle propelling him on a course to intercept the larger creature.

He collided with the beast mid air, the claws of his hands and feet digging into muscle and flesh for purchase as he drove the wolf off it's original course. The two werecreatures tumbled to the ground, cutting a wide furrow in the once flawless snow and sending a white spray into the air about them. Snarling growls, deep hisses and yelps and the sound of vicious and unforgiving teeth snapping shattered the previously calm evening air. It only lasted a brief second before all fell eerily still once again, menace hanging in the pregnant air like ice.

The smaller werepanther snarled and bared his teeth, his ears laid back in clear threat, speaking louder than the noise that rumbled in his throat. Grimmjow's tail lashed angrily at the air, signifying the exact opposite of a wolf's happy waging, but he refrained from further attacking as he took notice of the color of the mongrel's eyes. Green, meaning it was an Original and more than likely one of Starrk's.

The pale wolf's own ears went back and it curled it's lips slightly but it fell still under the cat's lighter weight. As it's companions arrived, bristling with threat and stalking around to surround them, Grimmjow released the wolf and straightened to his full hight, intimidating and surrounded by a swirling air of menacing threat that was much larger than his size. The fur running along his spine rose in true feline fashion as he listened to the humans' horses shift nervously in the presence of so many unnatural predators but his piercing blue eyes never left the wolf before him.

The mutt's pale green eyes shifted from the feline to the humans and their animals behind him. They seemed to study each man in turn, pausing briefly to gauge them before moving onto the next. The wolf looked back to Grimmjow, shifting it's stance to something a little less aggressive but still alert and ready. None of the humans were as they seemed and every Pack member knew of the danger the feline could pose should he choose to. However, they had also been informed that Grimmjow and his odd company were no longer enemies and were to be treated as guests or even as Pack members, like family. It had taken a while, but Starrk had finally called an end to the farce he passed off as a rivalry with the feline.

"You keep very interesting company these days, cat." The light coated wolf's voice was deep and rumbling, but still very feminine. Her ears slowly swiveled to face forward again, her almost golden colored tail swishing slightly. As she became less agitated, so too did the wolves that had accompanied her, allowing Grimmjow to feel a bit more at ease and it showed in his body posture. "What has brought you here?"

"We must speak with Starrk." Grimmjow said, his own voice a deep rumble that left very little room for protest. He stood proud and tall, confident even as he had to look up slightly to meet the larger wolf's eyes. He turned away from the female canine, headed back toward the Pack's den and was pleased when the she-wolf simply followed along beside him while he continued to speak. "It is urgent, we haven't the time to stand here."

"We?" The female questioned quietly as she walked with him, looking back over her shoulder the small group she found herself and her scouting party escorting toward the den and their Alpha, something that no one would have ever believed would happen just months ago.

"Yes, we." Grimmjow said, his lips curling to bare his gleaming fangs as she glance at his humans, a bit of his possessive nature showing through.

The calm she-wolf took notice of this and brought her gaze back ahead of them, seeming to approve of his protective aggression toward the beings he chose to stay around. "Two of the humans carry far too much silver to allow them into the den. But I shall bring you there and find Starrk while you await outside." She compromised. "He can determine whether to meet with you or not."

"Fair enough." Grimmjow said, knowing that Starrk wouldn't deny him audience. He and the she wolf simultaneously took off into a steady, ground devouring trot. It only took minutes to cover the last mile stretch and the she wolf disappeared into the dark, yawning entrance of the cave like structure that served as the Pack's home, leaving her scouting faction to keep watch over the werepanther and his companions.

The horses shifted about nervously, pawing the ground and tossing their manes, but the animals went unnoticed. The three werewolves that were left to watch over their guests, non-Originals that had managed to survive and even thrive as werewolves and female one and all, watched the group wearily. Their caution was well warranted. In past years, even in past months, it wasn't possible to be this near the once-deidad without him tearing into flesh that was vital to survival.

It didn't take long for Starrk to appear at the entrance to his home, flanked by his ever present second and the scout that had escorted the feline and his humans. The seemingly lazy Alpha looked to be in need of rest and worn out like usual. Unlike usual, his shaggy brown coat still sported evidence of splattered blood, dried to darken patches of his fur and stain his maw.

Grimmjow shifted his gaze over to the towering form of Starrk's second. The massive, lanky wolf sported the same evidence of battle and looked nearly as weary as his Alpha. The lone, violet orb that was focused on the werepanther was alert and clear and he didn't seem particularly worried for the Alpha, meaning neither of them could have taken too much damage. Nnoitra wouldn't have tolerated Starrk putting off necessary healing for the sake of meeting with the werecat.

Movement behind the Originals caught Grimmjow's keen eyes and he smirked a bit as a smaller wolf peeked around the corner of the entrance. Lilynette's magenta eyes were wide as she curiously studied the feline before they darted toward the humans and their horses.

The Alpha turned slightly, glancing back to see what had caught Grimmjow's attention. A fond smile presented it's self for a moment as Starrk's younger sibling edged further out the den. He waved her forward and she scurried to his side, nudging the inside of his arm with her muzzle so that he would lift it slightly, draping it around her shorter frame, and she could half hide behind him shyly while she watched, feeling safe in the commanding presence of her older sibling.

Ichigo and Shiro couldn't help the smiles that crossed their features at the young wolf's actions. It was fascinating to see how gently the werewolves interacted with each other, creatures that were supposed to be cruel and brutal, mean and inhumane in every way.

"Hello, Grimmjow" Starrk greeted, his grey eyes swimming over the forms before him as he hugged Lilynette to his side in sibling affection. As he spoke, extending his greeting to the werecat's humans, the light coated she wolf gathered her scouting faction and took off, back into the forest to continue their duties. "And to you, Ichigo and Shiro."

The Alpha glanced over the odd blond man, his nostrils flaring as the warm, musty scent of horse and the pungent scent of silver wafted through the air. Grimmjow certainly had a talent for find interesting humans. Starrk glanced to the other human, taking in the man's odd appearance and the sword strapped at his hip. Chilling, grey eyes narrowed as the werepanther's own words from barely a week ago came filtering back about an odd human that still carried a sword even as firearms had taken dominance as the humans' choice weapon.

Grimmjow watched as the Alpha and his second seemed to register the threat Kenpachi posed at nearly the same time. Both wolves' ears dropped back, Starrk's eyes darting back to Grimmjow's with curiosity and question swirling openly in their depths as his stance became slightly protective around the young she wolf. The larger black wolf's eye remained glued to the threatening humans, watching every subtle move they made as he curled his lips. His tongue flicked out to run along his massive fangs, collecting some of the red that still stained his glistening teeth and doing a hell of a job at looking menacing, something the unusually large, one eyed wolf did well. Nnoitra watched the dangerous humans for his Alpha while Starrk dealt with whatever the cat wanted.

"It's a long story." Grimmjow said with a slight shrug, his inhuman eyes showing a sincerity and urgency that had Starrk's attention without a second thought to the humans or the deadly silver they carried into his territory and so near his den and family. "A story we don't have time for right now."

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><p><strong>Well, what do ya guys thin<strong>**k? Things should start heating up nicely, yeah?**


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry my updates are taking longer than normal ^^; on top of working on this story, I've also got several other stories in the works (ones that probably wont be published until _M&M_ is complete) and on that note, I should probably let you know that _Monsters and Men_ will be ending in one or two more chapters... *cowers* please don't hate me**

**Anyway~! Enjoy the chapter!  
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><p>The young she-wolf's tail swayed gently behind her, thumping against the ground every so often and creating a sweeping pattern in the snow as she crouched before the two younger of the humans the feline had brought along. A happy grin parted her lips, showing off her fangs but it wasn't an aggressive expression and her shining, inhuman eyes only reflected the curiosity of the young and inexperienced. She sniffed at the hand offered her, much the way a human's pet dog would as the Caster introduced himself.<p>

Ichigo smiled despite himself as he sat cross legged beside his twin on a fallen log protruding from the snow near the entrance of the Pack's den. He held out his hand to the young wolf, expecting a handshake in return, much how he had witnessed the Alpha and Grimmjow call an agreement, but when the she-pup sniffed at him curiously, he couldn't help but giggle through speaking his name.

Beside him, Shiro snorted a laugh as well, a wide smirk on his ashen features. When the canine pulled away from Ichigo, the Undead let her sniff at him as well, confident that he and his brother were in no danger from the young wolf. Warm breath tickled at his fingers and Shiro couldn't help himself as he reached forward just a bit more and ran his hand over the top of the werecreature's muzzle.

Lilynette pulled back in surprise, her pinkish hued eyes widening slightly before she regarded the human curiously, head tilting to the side slightly and long ears perked forward. The young wolf only dared short glances at the pale man's inverted and strange eyes. She was curious, but careful not to show anything that could be construed as aggression, seeing that these men were supposed to be allies of her older brother's and therefore, friends to her. Even though she held high standing in the Pack, being of the same blood as the Alpha, she didn't dare to make enemies of these unique and apparently powerful humans.

The two young men chuckled at her reaction, happy expressions settling on their features before Ichigo elbowed his colorless copy gently and spoke up in a soft and careful voice, not wanting to startle or upset the wolf. He didn't know how werewolf customs went, and so was just as careful as Lilynette to refrain from doing anything that could be construed as negative. "Sorry... did he offend you?"

A piercing blue gaze settled on the three, watching as Lilynette shook her head slightly and leaned back in toward his humans, her intrigue showing openly on her canine features. Grimmjow was happy to see his Ichi and Shiro smiling. Even though news of the upcoming war had only just reached them, it had been a stress and urgency filled time. No one could guess exactly when the traitorous mutt planned to initiate his battle but Starrk knew the old male better than anyone else and his best guess was that it would be sooner rather than later.

Grimmjow wished with every fiber of his being that he could hide the two young men away until the dangerous battle was over. He had entertained the idea of locking the two, along with there new and equally young friend, up in their fortress like home with it's magical barrier and make them wait out the war, but he knew he could never keep them from following him. Ichigo and Shiro were very nearly children compared to him, yet they held the maturity and inner strength of someone that had lived more than twice as long. Even being of the frail human race, they were stronger than most he had known in his long life and he had little doubt that no one would ever be able to match that inner strength for what was bound to be centuries to come. That was provided he ever bothered to show himself again after these two.

"Grimmjow..." The Alpha pinned the feline with his gaze, his tone sombre enough to quiet the ever talkative Urahara and draw the attention of his second and the man named Kenpachi, whom had unofficially set themselves up as sentries around the colorful and unique gathering. "It would seem history ever repeats it's self... I feared Baraggan had more advanced plans than simply taking my mantle." Starrk shook his head slowly, sadly, his grey eyes clouded in thought and memory.

The time was long gone, the memories dulled and colorless by hundreds of years but the scars were always there and Grimmjow shivered where he knelt beside Starrk, the very wolf that had helped to set him free so long ago. The tip of his tail flicked and he curled his upper lip slightly before pushing his seething and indignant anger down. The human responsible was dead, his strange friend gone as well, even if he had lived to be a very old man. There was no point to his potent rage so long after the event had taken place and ended.

"Can you and your mutts track him to where he's hiding? Perhaps we can end this before it truly begins this time." The feline asked, his cold gaze reflecting only the snow laden and darkening landscape.

"No...Nnoi and I tried tracking him down and were met with a hunting party readied for our confrontation. He of course escaped before we had the chance to finish them off." Starrk told the cat and the human that stood nearby, his odd green cloak pulled tight about his body in an effort to ward off the cold.

"And that bastard made it sound like he had plenty of those monstrosities to throw away." Nnoitra added, his violet eye flicking toward the gathering before resuming it's scan of the area.

Starrk nodded his agreement, a quiet hum coming from his throat. "I'm under the assumption these strays were not present when you came to Lily's aid, meaning he must have quick and complete access and control over them."

Grimmjow's gaze flicked toward Ichigo and Shiro where they sat with said pup, the two men now intently looking back at him while the she-wolf looked between he and the twins. He huffed a silent sigh, only know realizing he had completely forgotten to tell them about the event or the strange dreams that it had triggered.

"Ahh, I see they were unaware of you saving her." Starrk chuckled, not at all surprised the proud and stubborn feline wouldn't have told his companions he had saved a wolf. Even Starrk, whom had known Grimmjow longer than any other living entity had been a bit surprised.

"Oh! I'll tell them!" Lilynette exclaimed happily, launching into her grand telling for her new friends.

The werepanther shook his head and rolled his eyes but didn't protest and directed his attention back to Starrk and Urahara. They had a battle to plan for, a war to prepare for and Grimmjow had a grudge to settle.

••••••

Hood pulled forward to help protect his face from the cold and the small snow flakes that fluttered lazily through the air, Renji leaned forward against the chilly breeze where he sat astride his horse. The beast trudged through the snow, more shallow along the path that was used by travelers but still well on it's way to deepening.

One hand grasped the reins to keep control of the trotting animal while Renji's other disappeared inside his thick coat, fingers wrapped around the gun he had bought weeks ago without knowing whom it was he was buying it from, the weapon loaded with silver shells to ward against the beasts he feared stalked the forest. He hoped desperately that he wouldn't end up in a situation where he had to use it, but one never knew and he warily eyed the shadowed and seemingly lifeless trees that lined either side of his path as the shadows lengthened with the disappearing sun.

He had run home from Urahara's weapons shop, weaving between the few people that had dared the cold evening air in his haste to find Rukia. Panting in the cold air by the time he had arrived, he had thrown the front door to their home open and called out her name. There had been no answer, as he somehow knew there wouldn't be. Upon searching his entire abode, he found his suspicions confirmed. There was no sign that the small, raven haired woman had yet to return. None of her things were out of place, no note left behind, all the animals had been stabled in their stalls and none of the tack had been touched. There was no Rukia to be found anywhere.

Panic beginning to well up in his mind, Renji readied their sturdiest horse, almost wishing he could borrow Shiro's feisty stallion. Surely the near-albino's aggressive beast would have been better to have if he ran into a wolf on his way. Pushing the thought aside and doing his best not to think about the wolves, Renji had readied his own things, snagging his gun on his way out of the house again.

Mounting up, he had kicked the horse into motion and took up a fast trot toward the edge of the village and beyond, receiving a few curious looks from the people that had braved the cold to finish the day's business and chores. Passing by the weapon's shop mere moments before his friends had exited the unassuming looking building, he failed to notice the set of small foot prints that led in the opposite direction of the Kuchiki manor. The very same set that didn't lead far, rounding a corner to disappear behind a building and lay in wait for those within and those around to leave.

Renji pulled his coat closer about him, blowing hot air into his hands before grasping the reins once more and prodding his horse back into a faster gallop as the large home came into view near the darkening horizon. The animal high stepped through the snow and stretched out it's neck as the rider gave it more lead, his breaths visible and foggy as they billowed from it's nostrils to crystallize in the cold air.

Making the last stretch in short order, Renji pulled back and slowed his mount as he approached the front entrance. He swung his leg over the saddle and the animals back and vaulted to the ground before the horse had even fully halted, draping the lead rein over a fence post. Sprinting up the slick, snow covered front staircase with all haste, he slipped a bit, catching hold of the railing before sliding across the porch to stand before the door.

The red head banged on the door before quickly straightening his jacket out and pushing some of the loose strands of his wild mane out of his face in an attempt to look at least semi presentable. A butler opened the door, bowing before stepping aside and quietly telling the familiar, tattooed man that he would fetch Master Kuchiki before disappearing down a hallway.

As Byakuya swept around the corner of the hall, his pace regal and relaxed, Renji quickly ran to his side, unable to wait as his urgency made it's self known. "Byakuya, have you seen Rukia? Is she here?"

Dark brows furrowed just slightly before one arched as the older Kuchiki glanced at Renji. "No, Abarai, she is not here. I was led to believe she was staying with you."

"Well...she was, but she got upset and disappeared yesterday..." Renji stumbled through a quick explanation. "She hasn't come back yet and I didn't know where else she may have gone."

"Hmm..." Byakuya hummed ever so quietly, a thoughtful sound that let Renji know he was paying attention to the red head even if he didn't look like it. "Her last visit was about a week ago."

"A week ago..." Renji searched his mind for when she could have possibly found time to leave without his knowledge. Though it seemed like it had been so much longer, it had been right around that time that he had visited the twins and their then new friend. She must have visited while he had been at Ichigo and Shiro's castle like house, hunting wolves with the near-albino and the werecat.

"Yes." Byakuya assured him, his calm voice sounding unworried even with the news that his youngest, adoptive sister had gone missing. "She stayed for a few hours and left with some of her things the same night."

When Renji didn't act as though he would respond, frowning in thought, Byakuya continued, completely changing the subject as though he was unworried by Rukia's disappearance. The girl had always been a bit wild and knew how to take care of herself, after all. He had no doubts that she would be fine. "How are your lessons going, Abarai?"

"My...lessons?" Renji asked hesitantly, looking back to the older man, his confusion evident on his tattooed features and scrunched brows.

"Yes, your sword technique practice. Rukia brought with her some of my spare training equipment and her sword." Byakuya all but dismissed the red head entirely as he swept passed the man and entered his study, letting Renji trail behind him.

"I...I didn't know she brought any of that back." Renji said as he followed the elder Kuchiki into a room that held a large desk and a few shelves. The walls were lined with old and antique weapons, swords and the like that would have been used hundreds of years ago. Some of them were long and heavy, some short and made for quick movement, some were made of iron, others of silver, still others included decorative handles and hilts with gold and jewel inlays, all shone with the polish of a diligent caretaker. It was easy to see where Rukia had gotten her interest to learn how to use such weapons.

"Hmmm." Byakuya sat at his desk, pulling a stack of papers toward him as he lowered himself into the chair, leaving Renji to stand awkwardly in front of it.

"So you don't know where she could have gone?" Renji dropped his hands onto the top of the desk, his slight panic beginning to the get the better of him as the cold, elder Kuchiki dismissed Rukia's disappearance.

Cold grey eyes looked up from whatever Byakuya had been preparing to work on as the red head slammed his palms down on the sturdy, intricately carved, wooden desk. "No, Abarai, I do not know where she could have gone. Perhaps if you had..."

Renji practically snarled as he spun about, storming from the older man's office before he could finish his thought. The red head all but ran down the hall and out the door, letting it slam shut behind him and leaving a slightly flustered and confused butler in his wake. He had better things to do than be chastised by the elder Kuchiki.

His first thought was to search for Rukia, of course, but he knew he wouldn't be able to find her if she didn't want to be found and his next thought was instantly shot down as well. Even had he known where the werewolf den that Grimmjow had spoken of was, it would have suicide to run off into the forest alone at this time of the year and in the middle of the night.

The red head vaulted back into the saddle of his horse, turning the beast around and spurring it into a gallop back toward the village, his mind only able to focus on the hope that Rukia would return home before the enemy werewolves invaded.

Miles away, as the sun finally dipped completely to hide below the horizon and the citizens of the village retreated into their homes to sleep in warm beds for the night, their business done for the day, dark eyes scanned the surrounding area, glittering in the dark as they looked for signs of any last lingering people. Snow skittered across the street, blowing between alleyways and whistling with the breeze as it picked up with the coming of night, as if mother nature was determined to see the world coated in a clean blanket before all was soiled with the blood of her creatures.

Upon finding no one and hearing nothing but the chill breeze race through the streets, small hands went to work. Thick, fur lined gloves were pulled off and tucked away into coat pockets. Thin fingers slipped a pin into the lock of the local arms shop, a small and unassuming business run by a slightly off balanced but pleasant man. A second pin quickly followed the first.

Working with a practiced speed and precision and a single minded diligence, the pins were spun about and pushed around, playing with the locking pins that the teeth of a key would normally trigger and set into place. In no time at all, a nearly silent click announced as the locking mechanism caught and unlatched. With a smile of triumph that held only dark intent to match the dark night, the culprit took one last look about before pushing the door open, reaching up to quiet the annoying little bell before it could jingle about in the quiet night.

Urahara's shop was the only remaining arms dealer in the area that boasted still selling silver and the intruder wondered the aisles, knowing from experience that she wouldn't find what she wanted on the main floor. Small caliber guns and the various types of ammo they took were easily found, as well as a few knives and other trinkets made of the precious and potent metal, but the weapons of real value were hidden down below, in the level that most held no knowledge of and probably never would.

Scurrying down the hall and to the hatch that opened up into the basement level, the intruder paused to listen, making sure no one was below, before throwing the cellar like door open and swiftly descending the stairs.

Laid out on the long table were all of the crazed scientist's latest projects and experiments but it was the shelf behind it that caught dark, glittering eyes. Everything from heavy caliber guns to bladed weapons to various types of ammo and even explosives made up the groups extensive collection and filled the shelving; weapons that Urahara and his team had specifically engineered and designed to combat, cripple, capture and kill werecreatures that were deemed as a threat to the village and it's citizens.

There was no reason for the small woman to doubt that there would indeed be a battle, and she felt no doubt that the monsters needed to die in order for her race to continue and develop. Nor did she feel any regret or have any objections to participating in killing off the werewolves. The creatures were monsters, unnatural and vile. They indiscriminately hunted and fed on the humans, whether innocent of not and they deserved the fate they bestowed upon themselves for their actions. However, unlike her, there were those that she held dear that didn't believe that all the monsters needed to be destroyed. They felt that some were safe over others, that some posed no threat and would even help them in the upcoming battle. Well, she knew the truth and she would plan accordingly and be prepared if no one else would.

A humorless smile full of malintent stretched soft lips as small hands wrapped around one weapon in particular, a gun that would fire silver in a deadly spray of small pellets and insure that the target was not only easily hit, but couldn't simply dig the burning metal out with ease.

••••••

Dark having descended whilst the odd congregation of various species spoke of battles and plans and how to remove the threat that was Baraggan, the air swirled with a new chill brought on by the lack of the earth warming sun. The scouting party had returned, their shift over as the rest of the Pack awakened. Wolves emerged to begin their nightly hunting and other various activities that required them to leave the den. Many swung curious glances in the humans' and feline's direction, some even aimed subtle signs of aggression but as Starrk shifted his stance and dropped his ears, the more threatening of the creatures obediently scurried off. None would dare go against the Pack Alpha and if he was willing to mark the odd creatures invading their territory as being under his protection, the rest of the Pack would accept them as guests.

Grimmjow's ears laid flat, the tip of his slim, blue black tail flicking as he bared his teeth at one such mutt that dared sniff too closely when Starrk failed to acknowledge it. The wolf laid it's own years flat but backed off and scampered away to join the hunt as a deep hiss worked it's way up the powerful feline's throat to emit from between cruel fangs.

Starrk merely chuckled as he stifled a yawn and watched the way the feline practically oozed threat, his body language nearly daring any of the Pack's wolves to get too close to he or his companions. He called Lilynette to his side as she too yawned where she huddled in the snow beside the feline's humans. The young she-wolf nuzzled at her older sibling before trudging back toward the den to disappear within.

"What about the old keep your humans live in?" Starrk's deep voice asked as the young wolf left his side. They still had need of a place to gather while they rallied their forces and waited for the traitorous male's imminent attack and meeting in Lobos territory would be too dangerous for the humans.

Shivering slightly with the cold, the twins moved closer to their werepanther companion as they entered the conversation once again. With a fond smirk, Grimmjow pulled them even closer, pulling the Caster down into his lap. As Ichigo leaned back against his warm and solid body, Grimmjow nudged the side of the young man's face with his black furred muzzle in a very feline show of affection, wrapping one arm around the Caster while his other snaked around Shiro's waist where the near-albino sat at his side.

"I fear that would be too far from the village. The time it would take to traverse from one to the other would be time we wont have." The feline countered Starrk's suggestion as he glanced back to the wolves and away from the twins. Grimmjow understood Starrk's reasoning for suggesting the castle like home. It stood in the middle of the forest, a place his wolves could easily near if the magical barrier was removed, but it would still offer protection for the more frail humans.

As shinning cyan lifted to look back at Starrk and the Alpha's second, illuminated and flashing in the dark of the forest, the wolves could clearly see the conviction and promise that swirled openly in their depths. They both knew Grimmjow would insure nothing happened to the two humans and, with no more doubt in their minds, they realized it wasn't simply because of the Fallen deidad's affinity for the human race. The once mighty creature had chosen the two human males as his mates and nothing would come to harm them for as long as the feline lived.

Starrk nodded his agreement, his stormy grey eyes filled with thought.

"Perhaps my shop would do well?" Urahara spoke up, his face hidden behind his fan even in the cold and dark. The Alpha glanced to him as he spoke, grey eyes holding the same fiercely wild look the blond shopkeeper found in the werepanther's, though toned down to look much more calm.

"Your shop is in the village? I cannot bring the Pack..."

"What about the villagers?" The Caster stiffened slightly where he sat half cradled against the werepanther as the seemingly obvious thought tugged at his mind. "We have to warn them about the attack."

"King's kinda got a point." Shiro pointed out, snuggling in just a bit closer to his twin and the cat as he shivered in the cold. "There's no way we can hide somethin' like this from the whole village."

"Indeed... Just how do you propose we convince an entire village of people that they are about to be under siege by werewolves?" Urahara asked, looking from the twins snuggled against their unique companion to the wolves they were sharing space and conversation with. It was not a situation he ever envisioned finding himself in. Most of the members of the younger generations didn't even believe in werewolves anymore, yet here he was, in the company of not only wolves, but a were panther as well and discussing how they were going to put an end to an attack by an entire army of werewolves.

"We have been thinking about that..." Grimmjow told them, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and vibrating like a strong and solid presence through the bodies of the humans pressed against him. Nothing had been said aloud between himself and the Pack leader, but Grimmjow was positive they had reached the same conclusion all the same.

"Yes..." Starrk's bored and tired sounding baritone had a slightly uneasy undertone as he spoke. "It will require us to reveal ourselves to the humans; both Grimmjow and the Pack."

"And a little help from you." Grimmjow finished for the wolf, pinning the odd blond man with his intense gaze while he internally grimaced at the thought of revealing himself for what he was for the first time in centuries. He still held onto the desire to be left alone, a desire to stay out of the human race's knowledge.

The shopkeeper lifted a brow but seemed to consider the situation they were in before nodding his acquiescence.

"Oh good, we can distribute weapons while we tell them." Kenpachi said, a hint of mockery and amusement in his gravely voice.

"Do you really have enough silver to arm the entire village?" Ichigo asked, his arms wrapped around himself under Grimmjow's own.

"Very nearly so." At the shopkeeper's words, both Starrk and his second bristled slightly. The tips of white fangs peeked out from below the Alpha's lips as he curled them slightly in distaste.

"That's not going to work." Nnoitra's lone, violet hued eye panned over to his leader, seeing Starrk's agreement without a word needing to be said between them. "If ya want us to fight against these other wolves, then we can't take the chance of your humans mistaking us for them. I'm not about to trust a bunch of humans to understand the difference."

"We are also hoping to keep the humans out of it as much as possible." Starrk added to what his second had said, though not disagreeing with Nnoitra in the slightest.

"We can't just leave them unarmed though." The Caster's concern was easily heard in his voice. "What if some of these...bad wolves get passed us and they're attacked while in their homes?"

A shiver from the cold wracked the Caster's spine, his teeth chattering slightly as he spoke. Grimmjow tightened his hold on the colorful human and bent slightly to rest his feline chin on the man's shoulder, offering what warmth he could.

Shiro was the next to speak, a solution easily found. "What about givin' 'em bladed weapons? Wouldn' it be safe 'nough fer everyone ta have at least a dagger er somethin' made outta silver?"

Ichigo felt his feline companion nod against his shoulder as his twin threw his idea out in the open. "Provided Urahara has that sort of quantity, that seems a decent solution. Then, should a mutt get through us to attack, at least they would be able to defend themselves while not proving a danger to Starrk and his wolves."

"Your not immune to silver either, cat." Nnoitra pointed out, a sneer in his voice. He was ignored and hardly received even a look for his words.

"We could always melt down some a the silver bullets if we gotta." Shiro pointed out, knowing how the process worked since he made his own ammo.

Urahara nodded, lost in thought behind the fan he kept held to hide his features as he mentally took inventory of his supplies and stock. The odd item disappeared somewhere within the confines of the green cloak he wore, a serious expression on his normally jovial face. "I have the necessary means to make silver daggers, however, the sooner I can begin melting down and remolding the bullets, the better. We have no way of knowing how much time we have..."

"I can run home an' grab my tools ta help ya." Shiro offered, also having the necessary items. Haveing two people working would speed things along and save time they didn't have to waste.

"That would be most helpful." Urahara's sing song voice was back as he smiled at the Undead. Mayuri had been very right when he had said Shirosaki was hardly recognizable as such. Like the scientist had said, only a slight distortion of his voice and his off coloring distinguished him as being different, everything else about him was very much normal and human. It was almost scary to think how powerful his Caster brother had the potential to become, should he be given the time and means to continue learning and improving.

"Then it's settled. Let's get going, it's getting too cold for the four of you to be out here much longer anyway." Grimmjow said, climbing to his feet and pulling the Caster in his lap up with him. He and the wolves hardly felt the bite of the chill, winter night, but the four humans didn't have the same thick fur and shivered even with their heavier, winter clothing.

The four human men seemed more than happy to leave the cold, snow covered forest for the night and wasted little time in retrieving their skittish and wide eyed mounts. As they climbed onto the horses, the two werewolves and Grimmjow trailing slightly behind, Shiro looked to his more colorful copy.

"Ya comin' with me er goin' with Urahara, King?" The near-albino asked, grabbing up the reins of his stallion as he swung his leg over the saddle to sit astride the beast as it tossed it's mane.

"With you, there's something I want to grab before I get back to reading through that book." The Caster told his brother, also climbing onto his horse.

Grimmjow watched as the humans mounted up, Ichigo and Shiro turning their beasts to face the direction that would lead them in the most direct route to their old fortress like home and Urahara and Kenpachi rounding their animals back toward the village. He huffed a nearly silent breath at the situation and knowing how dangerous it was to allow either group of men to ride through the forest on their own, but there was no hesitation in his movements as he neared the twins and prepared to insure their safety through the canine territory.

Starrk seemed to recognize the plight and walked up to the odd shopkeeper and his partner as the two readied to leave. "Nnoi and I shall escort you to the edge of the village."

Urahara bowed slightly, letting his appreciation be known to the Alpha werewolf as he spoke his gratitude. Kenpachi was a beast of a man and Urahara was rather wily himself, but even he had no desire to run into this particular enemy while unprepared and in foreign territory.

The large, black wolf curled his upper lip away from his fangs but didn't resist or complain as his leader and friend set off after the two humans through the forest. The large wolves flanked the horses, staying far enough away to keep the animals relatively calm while staying close enough to still act as a guard should they run into trouble, though the chances were unlikely with the rest of the Pack being out and about.

Grimmjow sent an appreciative look after the wolves he could no longer consider enemies, even if it had been a farce of a rivalry ever since Starrk came into power, before he too took off, the twins on their horses following right behind.

Hidden deep within the shadowed recesses of fallen trees and dried, snow and ice covered underbrush, dark eyes flashed in the feeble moon light. He had dared get no closer, lest one of the several mighty creatures in the small gathering take notice of him, but he hadn't needed to hear what they spoke of to know they were planning a way to counter he and his army.

He would probably never know how they had caught wind of his plans, he had done much to keep it quiet and had dropped the necessary hints to let Starrk continue believing he was still simply after the Alpha's throne, but it hardly mattered. Nor did it matter that that bastard Kenpachi was probably behind their knowledge. He should have known better than to trust someone that was of the human race and while he had managed to skitter around what his true intentions were, he realized now as he looked back, he had probably slipped up somewhere and the man's intelligent, blond partner had probably pieced it together.

If nothing else, trusting the filthy human gave him the proof he needed that La Pantera was indeed still Fallen and reduced to the pathetic creature he was always meant to be. Baraggan had no corrupt and power hungry Caster at the ready this time, but the feline didn't hold the same overwhelming power he had possessed with the last attempt. Baraggan would not fail this time. Starrk would die beside the feline beast he seemed to hold so dearly and when the smoke cleared and the snow retreated for the season, what was left of the dead Alpha's Pack would come crawling to him for survival and leadership and he would see the rise of the werewolf race once again.

Baraggan, along with the few Original born werewolves that had loyally followed him when he was expunged from the Pack snarled silently as they crept away and slunk off into the night. Headed in the direction of the village, they were careful to stay down wind of the wolves and the wretched feline. A confrontation with that undeniably powerful group would only end badly at this point and upset his plans.

His forces were ready and awaited his commands. The first raid was about to commence, a pretext and preview of what was to come. The traitorous male would not be happy until he had destroyed the village and brought down with it the creatures standing in his way. A cruel grin curled scarred, grey lips, flashing yellowed fangs to the last peaceful night the oblivious humans and their unknown protectors would ever see.

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><p><strong>Soooo~ What do you think?<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Before you get started, I just want to say Thank you to everyone! (No, this isn't the last chapter! the next one is...) You guys have really made this an incredibly fun ride and I really am going to miss this story when it's finished TT^TT  
><strong>

**But enough of that crap, it's not over yet!  
>Enjoy~~<br>**

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><p>The rays of the morning sun worked with all their might to pierce the haze of thick, grey clouds to warm the earth but the bitter wind had other ideas. The chill breeze had lessened from the night before but it whistled quietly to it's self between the buildings and down alleys, negating what little warmth the feeble sun did manage to offer.<p>

The snow had finally ceased to fall but it coated the ground in a thick, white blanket deep enough to hinder travel even within the village's limits and made traveling outside of the town nearly impossible. At least for a human. The cold precipitation covered everything, painting homes and roads, carts and tree branches, anything within it's reach with a pure and nearly unbroken whitewash. It coated everything that it could cling to and drifted up the sides of the things it could not as if trying to wrap the world in a protective embrace to shield it from the blood that would be initially spilt in the name of something far less than noble and end in a gruesome pool more than worthy.

Silence reigned over the dense forest that surrounded the village. Not a single creature dared make a sound, the very trees themselves seemed to hold their breath and an ominous, tensed waiting settled heavily in the air. The humans went about their business as usual, those that braved the cold season at any rate, while the beings that would take up the task of insuring their safety, some that were not even of the same species, fretted and plotted and worked themselves to near exhaustion, knowing that the time before the upcoming battle was nearing it's end.

A head of vibrant orange locks, left loose to hang and curtain the Caster's face, was bowed over the heavy book cradled in the young man's lap. Ichigo read through page after page of hand written text scribed on parchment long before he had been born, long before even his deceased parents had been conceived. Occasionally he climbed to his feet to toy with a new spell or try a new technique spoke of in said book. Situated in the far back of the extensive space Urahara had hidden below his shop, the Caster was able to draw his magic near and let it flow through his body unhindered and without fear of harming those around him. Beginning to understand what being a Necromancer entailed, Ichigo began learning his craft at a rather swift pace, able to focus on the string of magic that was naturally within his reach and avoid those that were not. Yet he feared it wouldn't be fast enough. Everyone feared it wouldn't be quick enough, though no one dared speak of their fears aloud.

Placing a torn scrap of paper in between the pages of the thick tome, the Caster closed it and gently settled it on the ground beside him before climbing to his feet. Sweat from the toll he was putting on his mind and body trickled down his spine, wetting the back of the long, intricate robes he wore, the garments Grimmjow had told him were a symbol of his power and his craft when magic had still been a dominate art form to the human race. He had learned in the book that the robes were originally designed to help channel a Caster's magic, the intricate, nearly invisible patterns sewn within the fabric it's self were symbols to call and direct power, much like the runes he had inked into the underside of his wrists years ago to draw his magic to his hands. He had found more patterns in the book Urahara lent to him, symbols to help enhance his magic and give him better control, that he planned to ad to his body. All that was left was to wait for Renji to return with the necessary items and ink to do the job.

As the Caster climbed to his feet, so too did the werepanther that had grown so close to the man and his brother. Grimmjow stretched his lean, black fur clad body, arching his tail and opening his mouth wide in a yawn to show off sharp, deadly teeth that would soon tear into canine flesh and muscle. Too blue eyes, filled with a carefully controlled look of determination, watched the Caster as Ichigo took a deep breath and pushed some of his hair out of his face.

"Ready to try again?" The once mighty deidad asked quietly, his voice easily carrying through the equally as quiet space. In the distance, from the other side of the large underground facility, the sounds of metal working and a roaring fire echoed softly to create a background noise that the two had grown used to hours ago as Shiro, Urahara and Kenpachi worked nearly tirelessly to meld the silver ammo they wouldn't need for their own guns into daggers and knives to arm the citizens with.

"Yeah." Ichigo nodded as he matched the werepanther's look. An apology for making the cat into his guinea pig again wanted to escape his lips, but he held onto it, knowing that Grimmjow wouldn't accept it nor want it.

He very nearly had his casting to the point where it would no longer target the werepanther as well as the wolves. Grimmjow had told him with the last try that it was at a level that he could work through if need be, but Ichigo had been able to see the way it still effected the feline and his reactions. Grimmjow may have been able to stand through it, even able to hold onto his resurrection and push passed what pain it caused, but it made him hesitate and pulled at his focus and that could prove deadly if something went wrong.

Even Shiro, having not actually witnessed the latest casting, had told him to stop hurting their feline companion before they even entered battle. It had confused Ichigo at first, that his twin had been able to tell his magic was doing the werepanther damage when the near-albino had been working on the opposite side of the large area at the time it had happened, but the Caster was quickly putting the pieces together. He didn't understand how it worked, but he realized something had bound Grimmjow to them and they to him. It wasn't a binding that controlled a creature's will, but more of a natural bond that linked them and it seemed to only get stronger as he developed his skills.

Grimmjow nodded as well, closing his eyes and relaxing his body as the Caster began a soft, nearly inaudible chanting. He felt the subtle tingle of magic riding the all but motionless air of the room, the feeling he always noticed as Ichigo pulled his power closer to his physical body. Moments ticked by and nothing happened. Grimmjow tilted his head slightly in feline curiosity and waited a moment more before opening his crystallin eyes to peer curiously and expectantly at the Caster.

He was met with a wide, almost over joyed smile. Confused, Grimmjow frowned slightly, his brows drawing together before his eyes widened and a slow grin began to creep over his own features. "You already released your casting?"

Ichigo nodded enthusiastically, quickly mumbling another spell that sent nothing more than a very faint breeze at the feline, something he wouldn't have even noticed had he not watched the Caster. As the smirk on Grimmjow's feline features grew to match the Caster's, Ichigo ran the few steps that separated them and happily threw his arms around the large werecreature, jumping slightly to circle them around Grimmjow's thick neck.

Grimmjow laughed, his deep voice rumbling in his muscled chest as he caught the smaller human. The orange haired man's joy was contagious and pride welled in the feline's heart, an emotion he hadn't felt in a very long time. The pleased purr that vibrated in his throat and chest was easily felt by Ichigo and was more than enough to convey the emotion as Grimmjow nuzzled against his neck and jaw.

"Uhh...am I interrupting?"

Both the man and the werecreature looked up, turning slightly to see Renji standing a bit awkwardly where the rows of shelving and tools and various items Urahara had stocked in his underground facility ended and the more open space the Caster was using began. He had left his heavy winter coat at the door but held a bag slung over one shoulder, no doubt containing the items needed to fill Ichigo's request.

Smiles never leaving their features, Grimmjow bent slightly to place Ichigo back on the ground so that they could make their way over to the tattooed red head.

"Nope." Ichigo said happily, pleased that he had finally figured out what he had been doing wrong. His demeanor changed slightly, concern showing in his expressive, sepia eyes. "She wasn't there was she...?"

"Still no sign of her..." Renji shook his head but kept his gaze lifted to match his friend's. "but we have other things we need to worry about right now, I'm sure she'll be fine." The red head let a slight, strained but genuine smile cross his face as he lifted the bag from his shoulder and shook it a little.

Ichigo stooped to grab up the thick book before leading the way back to the front of the space, where the others were, as well as a table and chairs they could use for their purposes. As they neared the area Urahara had set up for melting the silver, Shiro paused in what he was doing and glanced over at their approaching forms.

The near-albino lifted a pair of darkly tinted goggles away from his face, blinking a few times and wincing as his inverted eyes adjusted to the change in the lighting level. Sweat from standing before the hot flames of the small inferno they were using glistened on his bare torso, a bit heavier muscled than Ichigo's own. With a sigh, he pulled the leather work gloves from his long fingered hands and dropped them onto the table. The exhaustion began to show on his already pale features now that he had paused in what he had been doing since returning from his and his brother's home the night before.

Shiro raised his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, uncaring as he smeared some of the black soot from his hands to his face, and looked over to his more colorful copy.

Ichigo gave him a happy enough smile, though no one in the large space could push the urgency laced undertone out of the back of their minds for long. The Caster opened up the book he had been using as a guide for his magic and flipped to the page he needed, the one that detailed various patterns to help a Caster's magic flow more smoothly and quickly through their body. He pointed out what he needed from Renji and as the red head began setting up his equipment, Ichigo walked up to stand in front of his twin, leaving barely an inch between them.

Thinking to give his beloved brother a hug, the Caster quickly changed his mind when he realized just how filthy Shiro was from working and molding silver the whole night through. Instead, he settled for a quick kiss, able to taste the slightly salty sweat on lily white lips, but it didn't bother him as a gentle quirk lifted the corners of Shiro's lips. It was a far cry from the wide, suggestive smirk he normally wore, but it was better than nothing.

"You sure about this, Ichigo?" Renji asked over his shoulder as he finished putting his tattoo gun together and set out his ink. "That's a lot of ink..."

"I'm sure. It'll help channel my castings." Ichigo told the red head, stepping away from his brother and joining his friend at the table. "And I need all the help I can get right now."

Renji nodded and Ichigo removed his robes, folding them gently before draping the fabric over the back of one of the chairs. As the red head strung the elastic bands that guided the needle of his tools together, Ichigo took a seat and did his best to relax.

Shiro turned back toward the two men they had only met the day before. "Le' me take a piss an' I'll be right back, Urahara."

The blond shopkeeper glanced up from his work for a moment. "Oh, no need." He all but sang to the Undead as he pulled a pair of long handled pincers from the fire and up ended them, carefully pouring the molten silver from the vile at the end into a mold set in cool water. "All that's left is to let everything finish cooling, take your time."

As Shiro neared the stairs, headed up and toward where the washroom was located, the cellar like door was flung open, gaining the attention of everyone present. An odd man a little on the small side descended the stairs in a flurry of equally odd colors. He brushed past Shiro in his rush but froze before taking a step backward to bring himself in front of the near-albino once again. His odd, black and white painted face twisted into a large, slightly creepy grin to reveal large, blunt teeth as he took in the appearance of the young man before him.

"Oooh!" It seemed the man could hardly contain his joy as he studied the man he stood in front of, much to the gathered peoples' confusion. "Urahara, you brought me the Undead?"

Shiro's ashen brows drew together in a confused and angered scowl. His need to use the restroom forgotten, the paler of the twins turned on his heal, ignoring the newcomer, and all but stormed back to his brother's side. Ichigo held a matching expression on his face, his anger just as potent at hearing his beloved twin being called by that. He winced slightly as Renji moved over his chest, the needle guided along his sternum but his eyes never left the strange man, dislike and mistrust swirling in their depths.

"Such interesting guests today." The man muttered happily as he let his eyes rove from the unique Undead to his much more colorful copy, the young man that must have been the Caster, before settling on sharp, glistening fangs and piercing, cerulean eyes, all of which looked rather unhappy at the moment. "Oh my."

"Indeed, Mayuri." Urahara said, joining the scientist, his ever present fan hiding his features and remaining immaculately clean even after all the metal working he had done. "Powerful ones, too. Let's refrain from offending them, yes?"

"Oh fine." Mayuri reluctantly agreed. "I suppose you're right, but when this is over, I would love to run a few tests."

His only answer was a low, rumbling growl that instantly shot the idea down and promised pain if it was ever brought back up again.

"My, my." Urahara smirked behind his fan. "Kenpachi and I were beginning to wonder where you had gone to do whatever it is that you do when you're gone." The shopkeeper told the scientist, his mysterious smile evident in his voice and his sparkling grey eyes.

Mayuri held up his hand, one long finger pointed toward the ceiling as a sort of strangled squeak escaped and his eyes widened, as though he had just remembered his reason for being back. The scientist continued his previous rush, brushing by Urahara and skirting around the table with the unique companions sitting around it. He darted to his work table before he began explaining.

"I have seen evidence of werewolf activity around the village. Several of them at the very least." The man told the stunned group as he pushed aside papers and other items on his desk.

There was a moment of silence, even the quiet hum of Renji's tools ceased, before five pairs of eyes turned to look at Grimmjow expectantly, varying degrees of worry shining in their depths. As the scientist continued digging for something, eventually going to the shelves of weapons located behind his table, Grimmjow just shook his head.

"Starrk has not called yet." The wolf and his Pack had set up sentries, groups of wolves that surrounded the village and waited for Baraggan to make his move. The moment the traitor or his strays were detected, even just a scent on the breeze, Starrk was to let Grimmjow know. The call would come as a howl, and to Grimmjow, another werecreature with far keener senses than a human, that howl would tell him everything he needed to know about the invading wolves. But no howl had rang through the air and the attack wasn't expected until night fall, still nearly the whole day away.

"Is it possible that Starrk ran into trouble?" Urahara asked as he too rounded the scientist's work station and began selecting his own weapons.

"No." Grimmjow told the blond confidently. Mayuri must have been mistaking. "Should something happen to the Alpha, every wolf in the Pack would be crying. Even a human would know something was going on."

"Starrk?" Mayuri glanced to Kenpachi briefly before he continued his search. "Isn't that the name mentioned by the wolf you were collecting information on?"

"Yeah, turns out he's the leader of a friendly wolf clan in the are." Kenpachi grunted out to the scientist, looking calm and bored as ever, if just a little bit excited at the prospect of fighting more werewolves.

As the two spoke, grins spread across both Urahara's and Grimmjow's features, though the former's was hidden behind his fan, as they pieced together the scientist had seen. Mayuri paused as the realization of his mistake settled in and while it was a relief to know they weren't under attack prematurely, the scientist huffed in irritation and grumbled to himself.

Renji returned to work, inking the pattern Ichigo had pointed out into the Caster's flesh, a relieved and tense chuckle escaping him. Shiro pulled up a chair and sat beside King, watching as dark ink began to take over lightly tanned, smooth skin. No one said a word about the scientist's mistake, too relieved that it was only Starrk and his Pack out and about during the day to poke fun of the odd looking man.

"Urahara..." Mayuri called after a moment of continued searching, digging through his various creations and still prototype weapons. "Have you been trifling with my things again?"

"Of course not, I always tell you when I have been." The shopkeeper said as he began collecting the freshly made silver daggers. The bladed weapons were still smudged with the dirt and soot of the pyre they used to forge them, uncleaned and unpolished and certainly not looking very pretty, but they would do what they needed to should the invading wolves manage to slip passed their defenses and into the village.

"hnn." The scientist rubbed at his hairless chin, doing a remarkably good job of not smearing his face paint, and hummed as he stared at where he was positive he had left it. "It seems that one of my modified shotguns is missing."

Urahara sighed as his fan disappeared. "I had thought it seemed someone had tampered with the lock." He muttered to himself mostly. Unfortunately, he didn't really have the time to spare worrying about who may have broken into his shop, and since he hadn't noticed anything immediately out of place, he had went straight to work on creating the weapons the citizens would need.

"Ichigo, Renji. Are you two just about finished up?" The blond asked, beginning to heft the heavy, leather bag he had placed the daggers in. Kenpachi snatched the bag from him as the brutish man approached, easily lifting it to hold it over one shoulder. The shopkeeper gave him a grateful smile before looking back to the Caster and his friend.

He dismissed the missing weapon, unable to do much about it and having a sneaking suspicion of who was behind the brake in. It seemed all that had gone missing was the single item Mayuri had mentioned and nothing from the shop above had been touched, meaning that the culprit knew where to go to get what she was looking for. There was really only one person it could have been and Urahara simply hoped Rukia knew what she was doing.

"Yeah." Renji answered him as he bent close to the Caster's chest, working swiftly but confidently to fill in the last section of arching line. A moment later, the red head stood up and backed away from Ichigo. "There ya go, all done."

Ichigo stood up, carefully running his finger tips over the freshly darkened lines on his chest. Where smooth, tanned skin had once covered lean muscle, six, arching and curved lines ran outward from the center of his chest. The lower two branched outward, spread wide to follow the curve of his pectoral muscles and round his shoulders, narrowing the further from the center they got and forming bracelet like marks on his upper arms. The second set of inked trails also started at the center of his chest, arching away to follow the curve of the first. However, mid way through they turned upward and ran over the tops of his shoulders to seemingly disappear from sight. The final and highest set started with the first two pairs, but scarcely branched out, instead running nearly straight up his chest and tapering off on either side of his trachea to end as narrow points under his jaw.

The lines were bold but didn't look bad and a wide grin morphed on Ichigo's face as he whispered a single word and felt the currents of his power strum through his body, pulled from the outside air and guided along the arching lines toward his center, where he could easily access it and turn it into a casting.

Both Grimmjow and Shiro let their features twist with smiles as well, able to feel not only the slight tingle in the air but feeding off the Caster's approval of the effects the symbols had on his abilities.

"Glad to see it worked." Urahara chuckled slightly, noticing how the other two seemed to sense that the Caster's idea had apparently worked before the orange haired man had said anything. "We best be going now though, if we want to warn the citizens."

In no time at all, the six of them were traversing the streets, headed toward the edge of town where a wide open market area was normally set up in the warmer weather of spring and summer. The location would conveniently allow Starrk and his second to join them as they revealed the existence of mythical creatures while the rest of the Pack stayed hidden and insured they weren't under attack just yet.

Kenpachi, Renji and Shiro each carried a heavy leather bag of freshly made, silver blades while Urahara led the way. Grimmjow, once again looking like a man though dressed in far less than was normal especially during the colder season, and Ichigo trailed right behind him. Mayuri, whom would have made up their seventh person, had opted to stay behind and watch over the shop, probably a wise decision since they were about to try convincing people that not only were werewolves real, but they were about to be attacked, not to mention the odd scientist's affinity for turning everything into an experiment.

With Urahara's connections and intellect, he had been able to pull a few strings and have the gathering announced as a must attend, emergency village meeting. Of course, flashing Grimmjow in his wereform to the village officials had helped a bit. The feline hadn't been particularly pleased after being grazed by a bullet from one the terrified officer's guns but it had just been a typical lead shell and the wound had healed within minutes and only acted to help their cause in the long run.

The mysterious blond smirked behind his fan but the expression was strained, even the normally goofy shopkeeper was beginning to feel the pressure of the tense atmosphere and situation. As if sensing something was suddenly very wrong, the growing crowd of villagers whispered nervously amongst each other, though the noise level never rose above a quiet and expectant din.

As the village officials joined Urahara and his group, wary of the blue haired man wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts and seeming to hardly notice the cold, the tense crowed fell to complete silence. Nearly every citizen of the village stared at the strange group with wide, fear filled eyes and confusion. Of course they recognized most of the people standing before them. Everyone knew the kindly shopkeeper by name and had seen his giant of a partner in the shop at one time or another. Word of the Caster and his supposed to be dead twin had long circulated through the village, so they too were easily recognized, as well as Renji, who had lived there all his life. The only stranger was the blue haired man, but even whispered rumor of a blue haired man attacking a man in defense of Shirosaki had circled around a few days ago. Still, nothing could prepare the stunned citizens for the information Urahara began pumping into them.

As the blond began telling them of creatures that could shift from human to beast and monsters that lurked through the trees, some of the people in the crowed laughed nervously, thinking the notoriously eccentric man must be joking, but as the village officials stayed straight faced and pale with nervous worry, watching to insure no one got out of control and Urahara waved forward the blue haired outsider, the crowed fell silent once more.

Urahara, incredibly surprised with how well the tense crowd was receiving what he was telling them, could only hope that the people wouldn't panic as the entire village took a collective gasp of air when two towering werewolves stepped out of the trees and calmly neared them, easily hopping over the wooden fence that circled around the village's limits. Starrk and his even larger second came to a halt at Urahara's side, looking powerful and menacing but not aggressive as their calm eyes roamed slowly over the villagers. Just when the stunned silence began to break out into shocked and disbelieving whispers again, Grimmjow couldn't help but let a smirk cross his handsome features as he slipped out of the borrowed shorts and into his resurrection, careful to let his thick fur cover his more private areas before flashing the crowd and silencing the people once again as he veered before their very eyes, putting an abrupt end to their doubts.

Panic filled the air, reeking and strong to the werecreatures that could smell it wafting from the villagers, as Urahara continued to explain that a different group of werewolves, headed by an evil wolf, would be attacking their homes very soon.

Starrk took over, explaining that he and his Pack, alongside Grimmjow, the Caster, the Undead and Urahara's men, would be battling the attacking army and defending the village. As he spoke, giving a human voice and human emotions and actions to he and the other werecreatures the citizens were faced with, the gathered people began to rally together. Unable to deny the existence of creatures they stared in the eye at that very moment, they hardly thought about how outrageous it all seemed and their fear and panic made them trust Urahara and his odd, if a bit scary group.

To Ichigo and Shiro's surprise, nothing was said about them by the people that normally looked upon them with fear and hate. The loathing and suspicion normally shimmering in the villager's eyes, aimed at the twins, was replaced by desperation and an odd sort of trust, as though the strange and frowned upon powers and strength the two held was suddenly seen under a new and brighter light. Who would have ever guessed the two young men they had chased out of their town would one day be back to save them?

Starrk and his scarred up second, scars given to the wolf by none other than the feline he now had to fight alongside, took their leave as quickly as possible, rejoining their scouting parties on the hunt and look out for enemy activity. As the two made their exit, disappearing back into the seemingly desolate forest, Urahara explained the wolves' aversion to silver and told the villagers that they were to stay locked within their homes as soon as he dismissed them from the meeting, giving the Pack and himself the room and security they needed to fight. The village officials began passing out the silver daggers while Urahara explained that they were a precautionary measure for the unlikelihood of a werewolf not belonging to Starrk's Pack getting into the village and into their homes. He explained that it would only take a single cut by the silver knives to kill a wolf, quickly dispelling the panic at being given close combat weapons that had began to swirl through the crowd.

From somewhere in the middle of the gathering, cowl pulled low over her features in order to stay hidden, Rukia watched as the villagers were all but forced to accept the notion of an upcoming and unavoidable war. But really, what else could they have done when faced with that kind of news the way Urahara had gone about telling it to them? The strange man was more than intelligent and had given them all the proof they needed, even finding and parading the creatures around before the stunned crowd like trained dogs.

Now he armed them with silver and gave them a means to protect themselves and their families in their time of fear and need. The small woman instantly realized why they were given daggers rather than guns and the silver bullets she knew the shopkeeper possessed; Urahara must have been worried about the villagers harming the creatures he had deemed as posing no threat to them. He was protecting the werewolves and that cat even as he was protecting the citizens.

Dark eyes glanced away from the shopkeeper to study the feline, once again in his resurrection and looking like the powerful and dangerous monster he truly was. The beast stood calmly beside the blond man, Ichigo and Shiro standing at it's side and acting as though they were simply standing by another human. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised. Those two were so far under the creature's spell they didn't realize the danger he posed to them and everyone else around him.

As those piercing, other worldly blue eyes seemed to settle unerringly on her form, Rukia quickly turned away and left with the few citizens beginning to trickle from the market square, completely missing as cinnamon colored eyes seemed to search the crowd almost desperately for her.

Renji sighed to himself as he realized he wasn't surprised in the least that he didn't see the missing Rukia anywhere in the crowd. Nearby, blue narrowed slightly before Grimmjow turned away from the crowd, dismissing the familiar figure his sharp sight had zeroed in on. He couldn't be sure that it was the female the red head had been searching for. He had only seen Rukia once before and hadn't been inclined to pay much attention to the human that didn't seem to like him or the men he chose to be with, the men that had brought him when he needed the protecting and defended him even though they should have seen him as a monster.

The city officials would be armed with silver swords, more deadly and dangerous to the attacking wolves than knives would be, but still far safer for Grimmjow, Starrk and his Pack. They would be stationed with in the village it's self, strategically positioned according to where Starrk, Nnoitra and Grimmjow had deemed the most likely to need the extra protection. Urahara and Kenpachi, also having combat experience, had thrown in their opinion and together locations had been settled on and instructions had been given.

The only people wielding fire arms loaded with silver ammo would be Shiro, Ichigo, Renji, Kenpachi and Urahara himself. Mayuri would also, of course, but the scientist was going to be acting as more of a field medic than a fighter and as creepy and unsettling as that notion was, the village's defenders feared they would need it.

Ichigo's own silver loaded hand gun wouldn't be of a very high caliber, only used as a back up weapon should he be unable to work his magic for some reason or drain himself of the energy he needed to cast, easily done since he was so new to the larger and more devastating spells he had been able to teach himself with the aid of the book he was given. Shiro planned to be by his side through out the entire battle, guarding his beloved King and using his own silver plated and trusty revolvers, loaded with the bullets he hand made himself. Renji would be with them, also armed with dual hand guns.

Kenpachi, with his wicked sword coated in something else the scientist had concocted and a silver loaded buckshot would be several meters away from the twins and partnered up with Urahara, who would be armed with a sniper rifle as well as a back up hand gun and posted in a pre-designated place along one of the higher buildings along the village perimeter. His sole hope was to find and eliminate Baraggan, the beast whom seemed to be able to control the mindless hoard of strays. Without Baraggan driving the pitiful creatures and commanding their movements, Urahara hoped that the monsters would fall into disarray and become even easier to combat and kill. Or perhaps begin killing off each other in their maddened need to fulfill their hunger.

Grimmjow would be mostly on his own, far faster and stronger than the humans and in need of space to utilize his ferocity. He would be out of harms way from any stray silver that would strip him of his more powerful wereform while still being close enough to guard his humans. Starrk, Nnoitra and the Pack would be taking care of the opposite side of the village, spread out to cover what the other's could not and far enough away to insure they stayed safe from the possibility of stray bullets while they fought against creatures that looked nearly exactly the same.

With the silver passed out and the citizens informed and prepared as much as could be insured, Urahara and his group made their way back to the weapons shop. Their plans were set, though flexible and easily adapted to whatever was needed for an unpredictable battle field. All that was left was to wait for the upcoming battle; a battle that promised to be bloody and vicious, where monsters would clash with men and the line between the two would be eviscerated, the definition altered and all hoped they could end it before it truly turned into another war.

After spending the whole of the previous night preparing as best they could, each man doing what they needed to be ready for the battle, the group was spent and it was decided they would sleep in shifts until Starrk informed them of any activity.

"Kenpachi and I can take fist shift. Grimmjow, you can take last that way your hopefully awake to hear the Alpha's call if it does happen tonight." Urahara suggested as he descended the stairs and led the way to the underground facility.

Grimmjow quickly threw the idea out the window. "That's unnecessary. Each of you can sleep while I listen for Starrk. Even should I happen to fall asleep, I'll be able to hear him."

When he was sent uncertain looks by the shopkeeper and his partner, the feline huffed a slightly irritated sigh but explained all the same. "I'm feline..." Grimmjow drawled, his voice deep and rumbling. "I'm a very light sleeper."

The fan was back out and hiding the blond's face as Urahara smirked at the creature's confession and the irritation that seemed to come with it. "Ah, of course. Like a cat nap."

Kenpachi pulled up a chair from the table to plop his giant frame down into while the shopkeeper joined the scientist to clue the painted man in about how the meeting had gone. Renji hesitantly joined Kenpachi at the table, his first though having been to join Ichigo and Shiro, but as he glanced over at his friends, he realized the Caster and the near-albino would want the last few hours of peace with the creature he knew to be their lover and more and he wouldn't deny them that.

The werepanther shook his head slightly but settled down and made himself comfortable, quickly followed by the twins. Ichigo and Shiro, without hesitation and uncaring what anyone else in the room thought, snuggled close to their inhuman companion, grateful for the few moments of tenderness and calm just before they entered what would prove to be a devastating battle. Grimmjow threw his muscled arms around them and pulled the smaller humans close, a slight quirk to feline lips as the two rested their heads against his solid chest; Ichigo on his right and Shiro on his left.

As exhaustion tugged at the two humans' eyelids and their breathing synced with each other while evening out, a pale, black nailed hand reached up to gently brush through a lock of vibrant orange hair before settling on the silky fur clad, rippling abdomen beneath it. Grimmjow allowed a very quiet purr rumble in his chest as he enjoyed his humans' warmth and embrace. The sound lulled Ichigo and his twin into a blessedly dreamless and empty sleep.

Minutes later, as everyone else began settling down and the building fell into a tense, somewhat forced and foreboding silence, Grimmjow took a deep breath and dug deep within himself until he sat, holding the men he loved close, in a half asleep state that would allow his body to gain the rest it would need. He wasn't so lucky as his humans, however, and he was quickly assaulted with flashes of a battle long since ended and nearly forgotten.

Old wounds were suddenly fresh, blood stained the snow covered earth in sickly pools but all seemed colorless and ashen as the background blurred and the corpses and mounds of freshly churned soil faded away. Flashes of color managed to register to darkened vision and pierce through dulled senses; vibrant colors and pale ones that contrasted immensely but fit together in beautiful perfection. Familiar features came into view, tear streaked and pained, smeared with blood and dirt. A matching copy just as pale as the first hovered at the other's side, exhaustion, desperation, fear and a million other emotions swirling just below the surface. The sound of a slowing heart thumped heavily in his ears, the world falling to a stillness that seemed out of place before the silence was shattered by a single wolf's mournful and haunting howl.

Inhuman, nearly glowing blue eyes slit open, filled with a dread and fear the once mighty deidad had not felt in countless decades. His keen ears perked forward as the howl, muted by distance but no less final than the bells of a church tower, trailed off and faded away, sorrowful and regretful. Grimmjow unconsciously tightened his grip around the men he held close as he stared sightlessly at the opposite wall for a moment longer, nearly unwilling to let go of the two and wishing he could keep them here and safely hidden. But as he gently stood, pulling the Caster and Undead up with him and awakening them, he knew he could never do that. Not to Ichigo and Shiro, not to the citizens of the village, not to the descendants of the humans he had once given nearly everything for.

Mere minutes later, as the group of human defenders and the werepanther in their midst sprinted from the shop's front door, the vicious snarling and the fierce snapping of massive fangs and canine jaws shattered the night's calm as Starrk's Pack clashed with the first wave of mindless drones.

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><p><strong>Feed the writer! Let me know what you think! Please? ^_^ <strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**Before anything else; I just want to thank everyone who has read this fic. It's certainly been fun to write and even more fun to read your comments and thoughts, so thank you~ And secondly, I recommend grabbing a box of tissues before you begin...**

**On to the last chapter~ Enjoy!  
>...and I'm sorry...<br>**

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><p>The moon shown high over head, it's chilling light filtering in between the leafless branches of the seemingly dead trees and brightening the churned snow. The air was cold but no one noticed as they fought the hoards of monstrous, stray wolves. The night was alive with the dying screams and pained whimpers of the beasts, with the enraged shouting of those fighting and the deep, rumbling hiss that issued from a feline throat.<p>

All was in chaos, the kind of unpredictable and desperate chaos that always came with a battle for life and death. It hadn't taken long for things to get bloody. As Baraggan's mindless fodder fell at the feet of those fighting in the interest of man kind, more of the strays replaced them, climbing over the bodies of their dead comrades in total disregard. Desperate to do the bidding of their creator, none of the monstrosities passing off as werewolves had the capability to realize they were being thrown at people they had once called friends, family, neighbors and lovers. They saw the humans that they had once claimed kinship with, huddled in their homes and hiding in the shadows of their defenders, as free game, safe to kill and devour and sate their hunger with. And they would do anything to feed and put an end to their hunger. All because Baraggan had told them it was so as he manipulated the hapless and pitiful creatures and used them for his own twisted gain.

As the once white snow stained red and was churned into a muddy, tainted slush, Ichigo threw his arms wide, a breeze that no one else felt lifting the edges of his dark robes and pushing his hair out of his face to whip behind him in flowing orange strands. With a wordless yell, a voicing of the Caster's determination and outrage at what was happening, he sent another spell outward, this one even more powerful than the last. And more taxing.

His magic coursed through his body, riding through his very being before it was forced outward in time with his motions and his defiant, deep voiced yell. Around him, the strays he had purposely allowed to close in on him yelped and snapped their jaws as devastating magic ripped through their bodies. The beasts crumpled to the ground around the Caster, their bodies and limbs twitching and twisting in pained desperation as they tried to force themselves back up and at the human standing before them.

Ichigo bent forward slightly, hands on his knees and panting as he watch with sorrow filled eyes the strays that still clung to life, though the struggle was in vain. The creatures convulsed in the tainted snow, blood trickling from their mouths, noses and even the corners of some of their eyes as his magic worked it's way through their systems with deadly intentions. They kicked at the bodies around them, digging furrows through the snow and the flesh of their dead comrades in their struggle. The beasts hardly even realized they were dying and nothing but hunger induced madness simmered in their yellowed eyes. There was no life to see flickering out behind glassy, fevered orbs, but then, there hadn't been before he had killed them either.

The Caster let his gaze drop away from the horrifying scene before him and to his feet as he panted to catch his breath and fight through the toll his own body was beginning to take from forcing his still developing magic through himself. As he let his eyes slip closed briefly, pulling in a deep and steadying breath, a hand fisted in the back of his robes and jerked with enough force to nearly drag the Caster from his feet.

Ichigo's startled shout was drowned out by the echo of a gun shot that was much too close for comfort. As the Caster stumbled, a pale hand wrapped around his upper arm, keeping him from being dragged to the blood soaked ground before the weight tugging on his robes fell away. The orangette spun around, his eyes wide as he clutched at his twin's supportive arm, to see a mangled wolf laying at his feet, a bullet hole in the side of it's head and the flesh of it's abdomen torn away by what could have only been cat claws. It had been one of the few beasts that managed to stumble away from where Grimmjow was quickly building a mound of bodies.

The twins looked over to where their werepanther companion fought with the grace, precision and fierceness expected of such a creature, of a once deidad that had been worshipped in daily life and in battle. Grimmjow seemed intent on living up to the reputation he still held on to.

Stray after stray fell to the furious feline. Talon like claws hooked deep to rend flesh away from muscle and muscle away from bone. Pained yelps and snarling whines echoed around the large cat as he tore through the mindless mutts that threatened the humans in the village and the humans he had grown to love, the two men he would trade his life for.

Grimmjow let out a deep, threatening hiss that rumbled nearly like a growl as his claws swiped jagged and devastating furrows across a large wolf's muzzle and down the side of it's throat. The beast yelped as it continued to engage the feline, part of it's jowls and lips torn away to show broken teeth that dripped with saliva and blood. It snapped it's vicious jaws closed in an attempt to capture the cat, but Grimmjow was the quicker.

The werepanther utilized his smaller build and ducked under the attack, springing back at the mutt as it retracted it's empty jaws to prepare for another attack. Before the stray had the chance to lash out again, however, the flurry that was Grimmjow landed upon it. The feline used his sharp claws to find purchase even as those claws shredded the beast's torso and scraped along it's ribcage. He latched his own powerful jaws around the surprised mutt's throat, sinking his fangs deep and tasting bitter blood fill his mouth.

From the corner of livid cyan eyes, Grimmjow caught movement as another beast bared it's fangs in his direction. The second monstrous stray, nearly as large as the one Grimmjow was currently tearing into, lunged at the feline's seemingly exposed back.

The werepanther smirked, a wry expression that held no mirth, and retracted his claws, easily disengaging the giant beast. He dropped back to the ground, landing in a low crouch and on his feet as one would expect from a creature of feline heritage. As the second mutt barreled in, the first bent to swat at the smaller werepanther. The two collided as Grimmjow swiftly and easily danced out from between them.

With the two large mongrels suitably distracted with tearing into one another, driven by a hunger they could never hope to sate and hardly realizing it was canine blood that filled their senses, Grimmjow sprinted off to his next target. He didn't have to go far and he pounced as another gun shot split the air. His claws once again sank deep as he hissed and snarled his fury, knowing that he was in no danger of being harmed by the silver bullets his human companions fired.

Yet even as he fought and killed, the once great werepanther couldn't shake the foreboding dread that lurked in the back of his mind. This battle, not so different from the one he nearly hadn't survived all those centuries ago, seemed to weigh heavily upon him. In the hundreds of years he had lived, in the centuries he had willingly fought and happily destroyed his enemies, never had he ever felt such an emotion during one of his battles.

Grimmjow had never feared a battle, not against any creature and certainly not against a werewolf. It was always simple; if he died, he died. If he lived, he would fight again. He had always imagined he would die in battle, and that had always been fine. Even now, he realized it wasn't fear, necessarily, that weighed so heavily upon him. It was something he couldn't quite point out, something that was missing that he was so used to living with. Or perhaps it was something that was no longer missing, that he had grown used to having. Then it hit him; the source and reason for his dread of the on going battle.

He truly had something to live for again. He no longer wished to join the followers he had lost so long ago.

The werepanther grunted as the beast he had been attacking finally managed to dislodge him. The mutt followed him down, it's teeth bared and saliva dripping from it's maw in thick, ropy strands. Grimmjow dropped his ears back and hissed out a snarl between his clenched teeth as the monster tried to pin him. With a renewed fury, Grimmjow tore his already blood stained claws through the beast's thick, mangy fur to sink into the soft flesh of it's exposed belly. The wolf above him snarled a yelp. Unwilling to release the feline, even if it meant the stray's own life, the maddened creature snapped it's jaws at the feline's muzzle, only inches from it's own.

Grimmjow flinched away from the jaws trying to close around him. The beast snapped and snarled at his face and throat like the mongrel it was and the werepanther was quickly finding he didn't like being stuck where he was, pinned beneath it, while other strays lurked about. With a growl to rival the mutt's own, Grimmjow ripped one of his clawed hands away from the creature's stomach and slammed his forearm across the beast's muzzle with enough force to knock it's head aside.

It didn't take the beast long to recover and Grimmjow gave it something to chew on. He bared his teeth and winced as the massive jaws closed around his arm but it gave him the leverage he needed and the werepanther was able to force the beast back as he grasped hold of it's bottom jaw. Using the arm that was in the mutt's mouth, Grimmjow forced it's head back while he twisted it with his other hand.

Sickly yellow eyes burned with a fevered hunger, staring directly into the feline's own blue orbs right before it's face. Grimmjow watched as those eyes rolled back and a muffled pop reached his keen ears before the stray fell limply beside him.

Yanking his torn up limb from the dead creature's maw, Grimmjow climbed back to his feet, his chest rising and falling at a quickened pace as he set off in search of his next victim, not giving himself long enough to register what would turn into burning pain as the mutt's slobber seeped into the bite wound to his arm.

Several meters away and very nearly out of sight, Urahara peered through the scope of his rifle where he lay in wait from his high vantage point. He let out a quiet sigh of relief, nearly inaudible, as he realized the distracted feline wouldn't allow himself to be pinned that easily. He swung his scope in a slow sweep of the battle field, searching for a single target while he offered his stealthy and unseen assistance to his fellow defenders when the need arose.

The feline was the only one he hesitated to assist, seeing that the silver from the shells he shot could be quite potent to the werecreature, not that any bullet wasn't deadly to a human. Even still, Urahara knew Grimmjow would probably get quite upset should he decided to kill the one of cat's targets.

Out in front of and below him, Kenpachi was his own whirlwind of chaos. The giant of a human, seeming as though he had an endless supply of energy, swung his dilapidated sword and hacked through any stray werewolf that was unlucky enough to stumble near by.

A maniacal grin on his face, Kenpachi ripped his jagged and uncared for blade from the chest cavity of a dying wolf. The silver concoction his scientist partner had made bubbled and smoldered along the beast's wound as it howled in agony before finally falling still.

Urahara continued to search for the rogue wolf with greying fur, hoping to find and kill the beast that had caused so much trouble once and for all and hopefully put an end to this battle before it became a war, before it got out of control. Before the strays broke through and into the village.

Before those around him began dying.

••••••

A look of sorrow filled the Alpha's nearly glowing, cloudy eyes as he fought against a wolf he had know for a very long time. It had was another original, one of the few Baraggan had managed to turn against him and as they fought, the wolf refused to meet his gaze or say a word. Starrk sighed before he snarled again and pushed the thoughts from his mind. The creature before him was no longer one of his, but a rogue that had dared go against him and would be dealt with accordingly.

The Alpha snapped his massive jaws shut as the other wolf tried to dodge out of the way. Unsuccessful, Starrk's cruel fangs sank deep into the beast's flesh. It whimpered but bared it's own teeth and pushed against the wolf it once lived beside in the effort to drive Starrk to the ground and keep him from ripping the flesh in his mouth away from the bone. The ploy was only partially successful and as Starrk crashed to the ground, bringing the rogue with him, the thick muscle of his neck strained.

A shrieking yelp rang through the forest as the mongrel's ear and half it's face was shorn from it's skull. Blood, shredded flesh and bits of fur fell from Starrk's jaws as the other wolf continued to desperately fight against the Alpha. His struggle was in vain, the wolf would die, as it had known it would when it threw it's self at the Original it had once called Alpha. But it's new leader had asked it to and the wolf, once one of Starrk's own, whimpered pitifully as Starrk's massive fangs sank deep into the flesh of it's throat. The Alpha werewolf would not show it that pity.

It's eyes darted to the side, once again avoiding Starrk's calm gaze, but they settled on something the Alpha couldn't see from where he was, the reason the rogue wolf had been willing to throw it's life away. Baraggan my have stood shorter than Starrk, but the traitor out weighed the Alpha and true to the older creature's wild heritage, he was as silent as the night as he neared where the Alpha fought with the other.

Starrk's jaws unclamped from the wolf he had been tearing into, a strangled yelp crawling up his throat as Baraggan took advantage of his distraction. Baraggan closed his powerful jaws around the back of the Alpha's neck, slicing flesh and digging into muscle.

An enraged and aggressive snarl curled Starrk's lips as he flashed his fangs. The wolf he had been fighting against crawled off, dragging it's self away from the two battling beasts but it would only live for a few more minutes. Another pained yelp reached it's ears as it lay in the bloodied snow, panting as it's vision blurred while it watched the two creatures clash. The crack of bone disrupted Starrk's snarling and transformed it into keening shriek as Baraggan cruelly used his heavier weight to his advantage.

That shriek was all Starrk's second needed to hear to dismiss the half dead beast Nnoitra had been working on. The second snarled as he flung the mutt away and took off in a swift sprint toward the sounds of fighting, panting and pained whimpering.

Nnoitra weaved between the trees, his black coat shimmering with wet, sticky blood under the moon light. It took him mere seconds to find his Alpha and the towering wolf didn't bother to slow his ground devouring sprint as he neared the fight.

As Starrk struggled against the heavier traitor, only able to get one leg under him, he barred his teeth and lashed out as best he could. He was quickly knocked off balance once again, his shattered leg crumpling below him as Baraggan drove him backward. With a pained grunt, Starrk landed on the cold earth with a harsh thud, Baraggan landing on top of him. The Alpha fought the traitor off, tearing at the mutt with vicious claws and massive fangs but he was severely hindered by his injury and the old male seemed driven to be rid of him once and for all.

Luckily for Starrk, his ever present shadow wouldn't hesitate to throw himself at the traitor for the Alpha's sake, and that's what Nnoitra did. With all the speed and muscle the lanky but massive black wolf possessed, he charged in at the traitor. He collided with the wolf straddling and attacking his leader and both Nnoitra and Baraggan were sent sprawling, a ball of sharp, gleaming fangs, curved claws and angry snarling.

••••••

Still searching the battle field through the scope of his rifle, Urahara panned over just in time to see Starrk fall under the very wolf he had been searching for. He made the effort to line up his shot but the two struggled and lashed about too much for him to get a clear shot in the dark. His rifle was loaded with silver shells and from where he was, he couldn't be sure that he wouldn't harm Starrk in the process.

"Kenpachi." The sword wielding man looked up, turning his back to a dead wolf at his feet to see Urahara standing from his cover, the rifle slung over his shoulder and resting across his back.

The blond said nothing, but pointed in the direction of Starrk and his Pack as he dropped from the roof top carefully but quickly. Kenpachi simply nodded and the two headed off in that direction with all haste. The nearer the Pack they got, the louder the animalistic and primal growling and snarling got as wolf collided and warred with wolf and weapons were discarded in favor of vicious teeth and claws.

As they ran, searching out what Urahara had spotted from his high vantage point, Kenpachi drove his blade through the ribs of a stray as it's opponent, a member of the Alpha's Pack, fell still below it. The beast didn't even whimper as the silver from the human's sword began eating at it's flesh, too preoccupied with ripping chunks of meat from the dead wolf to devour in it's mindless hunger.

Finally Urahara came to a stop, his head whipping back and forth as he scanned the shadowed trees and readied his rifle once again, trying to pick out the sounds of Starrk and the traitor over those of the other battling wolves.

"I know he's here." The blond all but whispered to himself, ignoring the strays that wondered to close to be killed by Kenpachi.

A yelp, followed by a deep voiced and furious growl caught the blond's attention. Urahara searched the shadowed forest for the creatures that had made the sounds, knowing it to be Starrk and the traitor. He crept forward, Kenpachi at his side, carefully scanning the trees and more than a little worried about putting himself and his partner in between the two huge creatures as they fought to kill each other.

Something thumped heavily near by, the weight and force enough to make the ground tremble even with the snow to cushion the impact. The two men jumped back as the two wolves rolled into view, their teeth bared and snapping while claws dug into flesh and blood quickly seeped through the fur of both wolves. Urahara watched as the Alpha desperately tried to scramble upright to gain the leverage he would need to battle against the heavier opponent, but Starrk's injury wouldn't allow it and the Alpha crumpled back to the ground as the traitor rushed in, clenching his massive jaws and grunting his pain.

Not a moment later, as Starrk fought off the wolf on top of him, the massive, black form of Nnoitra sailed passed to collide with the traitor. The impact from the lanky wolf was enough to dislodge the older male and send the two skidding across the snow covered and bloodied ground, sliding and scrambling while they snapped and clawed at each other in true canine, chaotic aggression. The relative quiet was shattered by the creatures' furious snarling and growling.

The blond shopkeeper raised his rifle, the barrel pointed toward the battling wolves. Still, with the speed and chaotic way Nnoitra and the traitor dug into one another, he would never get a clear shot. They needed to separate, if only for a moment, so that the human wouldn't need to worry about hitting the wrong wolf.

Urahara's answer was given as he watched Starrk struggle, panting and bleeding, to get his arms under him and raise his battered body from the snow. Starrk's teeth were bared, slicked with blood tinted saliva, and his roiling grey eyes were locked onto his second and the traitor, a storm evident in their depths as the Alpha desperately tried to rejoin the battle and aid Nnoitra.

"Starrk!" Urahara shouted to the Alpha, still on the ground a few meters away, as he retook aim at the traitorous male. "Get him out of the way, if you would please."

The Pack leader glanced over at the human calling his name. It took him no time at all to realize what the odd blond meant and Starrk growled quietly and nodded before returning his gaze to his second. All it would take was one word.

Nnoitra had no idea how well Starrk was fairing, having only briefly caught a glimpse of his Alpha as he sailed over the prone wolf but he would be damned if he didn't find out and the sooner he dealt with the traitor, the sooner he could aid his leader.

He bit into the older male's shoulder, sinking his massive fangs in deep until he tore through muscle and his bottom teeth caught on the bone of the beast's clavicle. Baraggan couldn't quite stifle his yelp, which only served to spur the black wolf on. Shaking his head in quick, jerking movements, Nnoitra growled through the fur in his mouth as he delivered more damage.

While Nnoitra towered over the older male, Baraggan still nearly matched the lanky werewolf in weight and muscle and he wasn't giving up so easily. Nnoitra was taking his share of damage as well, his thick black coat beginning to shimmer reddish under the moon light. He stifled a yelp as the traitor sent a big fist to his ribcage, nearly strong enough to knock the air from his lungs.

"Nnoi." The deep baritone of his leader had Nnoitra's ears flicking backward toward the origin of the sound even as he continued to fight against the older werewolf. From the centuries they had worked side by side, he recognized Starrk's tone and reluctantly disengaged, but not before lashing out with one last blow that had Baraggan stumbling backward.

As Nnoitra scurried toward his Alpha, the sound of a rifle echoed through the trees and rode on the wind, singing the sweetest melody of the night, the only true victory to be had. With a howl that screamed of rage, pain and indignation, the old male fought against the silver that lodged near his heart but his struggle only lasted seconds before the cursed metal destroyed the monster responsible for all that had happened and all that was to come.

Hours came and went, the villagers staying locked within their homes and huddling together as the vicious sounds of battle and gunshots echoed to them, ringing loudly down alleyways and through the streets. Only a single wolf had managed to get through the defenses of those fighting, killing and even dying in the name of a species that was not their own in most cases. The mutt, a rogue that had once called it's self a member of Starrk's pack, stumbled over the fence that ringed the village and staggered into the center of town only to fall dead on a deserted street as it bled out, shredded and mauled beyond what it's meager healing could repair. It's body would later be burned, the ashes collected and handed over to the injured Alpha of the werewolf Pack with the closing of the battle. The ashes would be left to blow on the chill breeze and scatter about the Pack territory with the rest of Starrk's dead.

Eventually, after what seemed like far longer than a single night, the moon began her cold decent toward the frozen horizon as her warmer sister's first rays began to lighten the opposite skyline. With the coming of the sun, even as the snarling continued, the battle raged on and silver continued to fly, the villagers began braving the streets. Expecting to see a vile mess of blood and dead beast's in the light of early morning, they were met with the clean sheets of pure white snow that blanketed the paths and roads within the village's limits.

It wasn't until a few, either too brave for their own good or just as stupid, crept over or around the gate that served as their borders, did the true devastation reveal it's self. Werewolves, most of them the enemy, the mindless strays created and forged just to be thrown away, but certainly not all, lay in mangled heaps. Bodies, crusted in half dried and half frozen blood littered the ground between the forest's edge and the village's, extending like tendrils to litter the forest beyond. The snow it's self, where it was visible between the dead, was churned and muddied and tainted pink with spattered blood and gore. The sun had risen, but the battle wasn't quite over, it merely shed light upon the carnage.

Yet those standing between the slowly diminished hoards of hunger driven, wolven soldiers and the citizens of a village that had not once before recognized those defenders as anything more than outcasts and murderers, continued fighting. In their midst, two young men worked a deadly dance, a duo that seemed to draw the villagers as much as it did the enemy.

Silver rang out, singing in the air, from twin pistols held in ivory hands. Shirosaki, the once dead twin of Ichigo, hadn't bothered to hide his ghostly features and for once, the few citizens that stared on in horror didn't include him in their nightmares. Shiro stood protectively beside his brother, his shots never faltering nor missing as Ichigo readied his next wave of devastating magic. Dark circles were beginning to show under the Caster's eyes, as much from his magic taxing his energy as it was from battling through the night. He panted though he had hardly moved from where he had started, yet he continued on with an unbreakable will. Neither twin would allow themselves to show weakness, or allow themselves rest until the battle was over and Baraggan's forces were defeated.

The two didn't allow for distractions and though they worried for their companions, they took confidence in their prowess and abilities. It wouldn't do to dwell on such dark thoughts while fighting for one's life. Of course, it help to set their minds at ease that the undeniable link they seemed to have with their less than human lover allowed them to veritably feel the feline's actions and destructive joy as he tore through his hated enemy, drinking deep in the chaos he created, though he too was finally beginning to slow down.

Still, Grimmjow could hardly be stopped. Even as he bled from countless cuts, bites and gashes, they began to knit close and he continued on. Wolf after wolf fell to his ferocity and he carved a bloody path through the now leaderless ranks.

The change in the mindless strays was hardly noticeable at first. Where their hunger had driven them ever forward, seeking out human flesh, it gradually led them to begin turning on one another just as easily. The longer they were left leaderless, the more they began killing and devouring each other with abandon.

It wouldn't be long before the last of the still mobile strays were found and killed, leading themselves to their own deaths in their hunger and desperation to get to the humans.

••••••

Rukia picked her way between the trees as she did between the bodies, sheathing her gore stained, silver sword as she went, the very sword she had brought from her brother's home under the guise to train Renji. She had had reason for taking it, for taking one of the silver swords in particular, and slaying werewolves was only one of those reasons.

The weapon she had stolen from Urahara's shop was slung over her shoulder by a strap, loaded with the single shell it would fire. She had only grabbed just the one, knowing that if she missed her first shot, she wouldn't have time to reload let alone fire off another round. But one was all she needed. She would not miss and while the damage of the shell wouldn't be enough to kill the creature, the consequences of the silver it held would be. She would make sure of it.

The gun weighed heavily upon it's strap, large for her small stature and certainly not practical should she have truly needed it for fighting off the hoards. However, that's what her sword was for. She had come prepared.

As the small woman darted between the trees, a dark cloak wrapped about her frame to help her hide among the shadows, she listened to the one/two pattern of gunfire that could only be made by someone wielding two weapons as one. She followed the echoing sound, knowing that only one person among those using firearms used duel pistols the way Shiro did and knowing that he would lead her to the one she was seeking out.

Within moments, the twins came into view just as Ichigo began preparing another spell, though he hardly spoke his chant out loud and the only clue he was about to release his casting was the look of concentration he held. She could see the weariness in his stance, the way he wavered ever so slightly on his feet, but she knew he wouldn't bow beneath that fatigue, not until he had accomplished his goal.

She watched as Ichigo's colorless copy stood guard over the man that was more than just his brother, his strange, gold on black eyes searching the area. Blood had spattered across one side of his ashen face, smeared through his white hair in drying clumps that the near-albino seemed not to notice. The slowly rising sun glinted from the pale colored hand guns, held level and unwavering in equally as pale hands.

Renji stood not far away, his red mane of thick hair tied up and out of his face, though parts had fallen during the fight and the tail was messy. There was something gleaming in his cinnamon hued eyes, something almost hard that shone beside the normally soft and easily read emotions that swirled in his orbs.

Rukia knew the red head hadn't seen or known death so intimately as the twins had, this battle could only be hard on the man. Even if their opponents weren't human, the majority of them had been at one time and she could only hope Renji was strong enough to pull through the trauma of it. Little did she realize, the events that would take place in the next hour would be far more traumatic to Renji, as well as Ichigo, Shiro and most of those they were fighting along side, then the entire night of fighting, spilling blood and killing could have ever been.

With a silent sigh that whispered of a misplaced regret, regret that things couldn't have been different, regret that Renji had to play the part of a good friend and allow himself to be dragged into this, the small woman brought her stolen weapon around, leaving the shoulder strap in place, and double checked the loaded chamber for at least the sixth time. It was a shame there was no other way to save them.

Rukia took one last look in the direction of the three she used to call friends once upon a time, knowing she could never see them again, before setting off back through the forest's edge. The pained yelps and howling guided her, the sounds accompanied by the occasional hiss and snarl she knew to be from the very monster she was seeking. It couldn't have been far. She knew the creature wouldn't stray too far from the twins, ever protective over what it saw as it's own. She would set them free of it's grasp and blinding spell.

As the small woman crept through the forest, going about undetected to the distracted men she had been watching, she was given a short second to notice crunching in the snow before a monstrous, scared up stray stepped into view. Out of reflex, she very nearly pulled the trigger but she stayed her finger and held her shot, unwilling to waste it on a mindless beast when she had much bigger plans for that single shell.

The wolf snarled at her, it's massive, curved fangs dripping with drool and it's maw stained in gore from whatever it had fed upon. Blood and other bits that had once belonged to a living creature matted it's mangy, brown fur. It's fevered yellow eyes landed on her, nothing but it's hunger and madness drilling into her own.

As the beast crouched, it's tongue peeking between it's crooked teeth to lick at it's gore stained lips, Rukia slowly, carefully let the gun drop to hang at her side by the strap. She reached across her body, feeling a very slight breeze blowing passed her from behind, and grasped the hilt of her silver sword.

As the breeze rolled harmlessly passed her, it slammed into the stray. A terrible yelping screech escaped it's throat as it's body convulsed before it even had a chance to fall to the frozen ground. It's sickly yellow eyes rolled back, it's jaws snapping shut around the lulling tongue to cut the appendage free but the beast was dead before it had the chance to feel it's mistake and the body fell to the ground, twitching at Rukia's feet.

Rukia's eyes widened slightly as she watched the display, knowing whom must have been responsible and wondering if she was preparing to kill the wrong monster. She quickly scolded herself for the thought. After all, Ichigo would have never turned into this thing had it not been for the true monster that hid behind the guise of a friend.

In the distance, a cheering could be heard, the few villagers voicing their support and appreciation for what Ichigo had just done, and their hope that all would be over soon.

Gingerly stepping around the body, Rukia continued on her way, cautious of anything that may have lived through the wave of magic the Caster had just sent out. As the echos of the villagers' cheering died away, the sounds of the feline battling took their place and rang through the forest. She eased her way around a few more trees and stepped to the edge of a snow crusted clearing near the village's perimeter.

Several dead wolves lay scattered in the snow, a few still desperately clinging to life as they snarled and snapped their jaws at the werepanther dancing in the middle, a living wolf lunging toward it. The snow surrounding the battling creatures was trampled and bloodied, the earth below exposed in some places from where one or the other had been thrown down and forced to scramble back to it's feet as it fought the other off.

Rukia, being as quiet as she possibly could even though the chances of either distracted monster noticing her were slim, readied her gun once again. She brought the barrel of the modified shotgun horizontal, pointing toward the werecreatures but she couldn't take the shot now. She knew that if she did now, it wouldn't matter which creature she hit, the other, the one left alive, would kill her. So she bid her time, unable to doubt that the werecat would be the one to survive this battle even though he panted and his fatigue was beginning to slow his graceful movements as wolf claws shredded his front. The woman watched and she waited, her weapon at the ready so that she could take advantage of the precise moment the beast would be vulnerable.

Grimmjow panted as he circled around the enormous mutt. The creature very nearly dwarfed the smaller werepanther and was easily twice his weight but it fought with the same hunger driven anger the rest of Baraggan's mindless beasts had and just like them, it would fall to the feline's deadly arsenal of weapons sooner or later.

As Grimmjow swatted at the mutt's torso, his claws raking across hard muscle and drawing blood in thick lines, the wolf accepted the hit and slammed one of his own into the feline. Grimmjow was knocked back, nearly loosing his footing as he grunted from the hit, grimacing and baring his teeth as bone shifted and caught unnaturally where the creature's big paw had slammed into his ribcage. One arm wrapped protectively and unconsciously around the wound, Grimmjow lowered his frame closer to the ground, his stance wide and sure footed. From his ready crouch, the feline easily evaded as the giant stray lunged in again, it's massive jaws snapping and it's clawed hands reaching for him.

The once deidad pounced as the wolf, over balanced from it's failed attack, tried to correct it's mistake. Grimmjow ignored the sharp pain in his abdomen as he attacked, seeing his chance to end the mongrel's life. He pinned his ears back in rage and aggression and grasped the snapping jaws in one taloned hand. With a roaring growl, Grimmjow ripped the beast's bottom jaw away from it's skull. His next furious strike tore through the soft flesh of trachea and esophagus. Blood sprayed in a crimson shower to coat his hands and dissipate to a mist around him, further reddening the trampled snow.

The massive wolf took a shuddering step toward him. The look in it's eyes as they rolled back into it's head slightly told Grimmjow it couldn't comprehend that it was already dead and the beast stumbled forward again, the incessant need to kill so ingrained that it continued to fight the inevitable even as it's blood fountained from it's ripped arteries and ran down it's front.

The feline's now unoccupied mind instantly ran to Ichigo and Shiro. It had been hours since he had last seen them and though he knew through the link they shared that neither had been killed, he still worried for them and for their state of mind now that the golden light of morning was beginning to show the devastation around them. The werepanther wanted to be with them to insure they were safe and unharmed, to take them home, to climb into their warm, human bed and curl between the two until the next morning.

A deep, metallic thunking sound drew the cat's attention away from the dead wolf and the thoughts that swirled in his mind, seeming to echo ominously even in the noise of the slowly ending battle. He spun around, teeth bared as his stunning blue eyes landed on the source almost immediately.

A small, raven haired human stood before him, her face slack and expressionless, a shotgun in hand as she calmly faced his ferocity. A sword was strapped to her hip, the scabbard made from intricately carved, tarnished silver and stamped with the mark of old royalty. She raised the large firearm, bracing it against her shoulder and pointing it at his midsection, the weight of it enough to make her strain but not enough to shake her aim.

Grimmjow sneered. A mere gun hardly gave him pause, let alone worried him. His body could heal a bullet wound quicker than it could kill him, even fatigued and damaged from the continuous fighting through the night. What kept him from attacking her was the sense of familiarity. He knew this human. Shiro and Ichi knew this human, and Renji too. Especially Renji.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side slightly in feline fashion, his glistening fangs once again hidden behind his blood slicked lips. His ears perked forward as he studied the girl, positive it was her. She hadn't been seen since before the war, disappearing before they had even learned of the werewolves' plans. "Rukia?"

He barely got her name out before she began speaking.

"You made men into monsters. You ruined them; destroyed them. You are a monster, and you infected them. You and Ichi's dead twin." Her tone was soft, innocent even but her words whispered of an unwarranted anger that the feline wasn't sure how to react too. He had never done anything to her, in fact, he had saved her and the man she had been living with from Nnoitra. Now he was fighting for her village, risking himself for reasons that were hardly his own.

He was saved the trouble of coming up with a reply as the small woman smiled at him almost sweetly and pulled the trigger.

The shot rang loud in Grimmjow's ears, the sound echoing loudly in the suddenly silent forest and deafeningly in his sensitive ears before he registered the sting of silver in a hundred different places. A buck shot. The woman had shot him with a silver loaded buck shot.

A high pitched, yowling scream tore from his throat as pain lanced through his feline body. He tore at the small bullet wounds as instinct over rode all else and demanded he relieve himself of the cursed metal, his hands shaking and his mind spinning with the devastating and poisonous effect. He felt more than saw his gore stained fur retreat to be replaced by smooth skin. The pain of his resurrection being forcibly stripped from his body dropped him to his knees as he screamed and his vision blurred, the burn of the silver coursing through his veins and seeming to alight him on fire from within.

Only moments having passed, the massive wolf behind him gave a shuddering groan as it's mind finally caught up to it's dead body. Sickly yellow eyes rolled back and it toppled forward, tongue lolling without the lower jaw to hold it in place, sticky, blood flecked drool dripping from it.

Grimmjow pivoted, his now human body feeling heavy and sluggish, turning to look at the beast as it fell toward him. Blue eyes widened and he desperately tried to scramble out of the way. His screaming had torn his throat raw and he shook and trembled from the forced veering and silver. He struggled against the burning pain caused by the bane of his werecreature heritage as he tried to drag himself out of the way. Everything hurt, it felt like acid seeping into his flesh and writhing beneath his skin and he wasn't fast enough.

The wolf, out weighing him in his human form easily by several hundred pounds, fell to pin him on the blood soaked ground.

Grimmjow gasped and coughed, breath knocked away by the force of the massive wolf carcass. He pushed against the beast with trembling arms, trying to claw his way out from under it's crushing weight, his naked human form unregistering of the cold snow he was pinned against. A whimpering reached his ears as he continued to struggle against the dead wolf and the pain that threatened to consume him. As he continued to writhe pitifully below the body he realized the pathetic whimpering was coming from him.

A figure stepped up to him, looking down at him and casting a shadow across his face in the early morning sun. A sword hissed from a scabbard and Grimmjow bared his teeth up at the woman in a pathetic attempt at aggression and warning. A flash of glinting silver, then the sword was plunged through the dead wolf and into his abdomen, then into the frozen ground below, further pinning him.

His screaming erupted anew as the silver weapon tore at his insides and he desperately tried to clutch at the blade, tried to tear it from his body. But the dead wolf was in the way and the silver was consuming his senses, yet all he could think of was making sure Ichigo and Shiro were ok and insuring Rukia didn't harm his humans as she calmly turned around and walked away.

••••••

Ichigo let out a deep breath, magic flowing from his body in thick waves to ripple across the battle field. As the last of the creatures around him dropped, dead and mangled from the potent casting, he released the spell and dropped to one knee with exhaustion. His body felt drained from the amount of power he had forced out, but it had worked, the village was whole and many lives had been saved. The battle was over, the unnatural werewolf army was decimated and their were no survivors. The mindless beasts had happily ran to their deaths, only hoping for a chance to sate their hunger and not able to recognize the danger they threw themselves at.

Shirosaki trudged up to his side, feet dragging slightly, to stand protectively over him, silver guns in hand, while Ichigo regained his breath. Around them, a few cheers erupted and the albino looked down at King with a genuine smile.

In the distance, howling that could have only came from the Pack's Alpha added an almost happy melody, quickly followed by a few other ghostly howls as the Pack announced their victory, no hint of the leader's injury evident in his deep voice.

Ichigo slowly stood, a matching smile on his face as he looked around at the villagers. Happy, relieved expressions adorned almost every one of them, Ichigo and Shiro no longer being looked at as if they were monsters, but as heros and comrades. Their elation was short lived, the smiles whipped from their faces as something snapped inside their minds simultaneously, leaving the twins dizzy and off balance.

They looked to one another, eyes wide and filled with dread as the link that bound them to each other and their feline companion seared and flared brightly with burning pain for just a moment. "Grimmjow..."

Something was terribly wrong with the werepanther. They both felt it, a hint of pain, a flash of fear. Then nothing.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo called out, taking off into the sea of mangled bodies, following the direction the presence had come from. He scanned the beasts that lay sprawled across the ground, searching for blue tinted black fur, at once both hoping to find the werecat and hoping that he wasn't there amongst the dead.

Shiro took off as well, splitting away from the Caster. "Grimm!" He called, listening for a reply and searching frantically. Dread crawled through his mind, widening his haunting eyes and threatening to bring tears forth.

Around and behind them, the villagers continued to cheer and celebrate, hardly noticing their saviors' panic. The celebratory howling ceased in the distance, a single wolf drawing out a deep, baritone syllable that took on an edge of sorrow. Among the crowd, a dark haired figured watched for a moment more, then disappeared seamlessly into the sea of people, disappearing again to never be found.

••••••

"Grimm..." the sound was faint. "...Grimmjow..." The werepanther, reduced to his human form, let his head fall weakly to the side. It had been Shiro's voice, lilting and watery and perfect, but tainted somehow.

"Grimm! Where are ya?" Louder this time, more high pitched and wavering than usual. It sounded like the pale man was worried.

Grimmjow smirked a little. Shiro was worried about him. It didn't suit the near-albino.

The voice called his name again and Grimmjow opened his mouth to call back.

"Shiro..." his voice was weak and came out more of a bubbling cough than the shout it was meant to be. But the pale man must have been close, even closer than he had thought for the man to have heard him.

"Grimm? Shit!" Shiro hissed, dropping to his knees beside the trapped man. "KING! I found 'im!" He shouted over his shoulder, then turned back to the werepanther turned man.

Grimmjow attempted to say something, the action only causing him to cough and blood to trickle from the corner of his red stained lips as the silver blade cut at his insides, tearing vital organs and arteries. His breaths came in harsh gasps as he slowly bled out. He weakly raised his hand, again trying to push the wolf off him, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was futile. He didn't have the strength, and even if he had, the silver sword held it in place. A whimper passed his parted lips as the world spun around.

Shiro watched him, his throat beginning to burn as panic welled up in his gut. He shot to his feet and grasped the hilt of the blade. Looking down at Grimmjow, fear and apology in his gold on black eyes, he jerk upward on the blade with all the strength and speed he could muster.

Grimmjow squeezed his eyes shut, writhing as the blade was drawn from his abdomen and out through the wolf. A strangled whimper crawled from his throat before his body stilled and he panted, blue eyes clouded and unfocused. The edges of his vision blurred and faded, the battle field seeming to loose it's color. And for a moment, just a moment, he thought he had seen raised burrows surrounding him.

Ichigo arrived in a swish of robes, nearly running into Shiro in his haste to reach them. He looked down at the creature he and his brother had come to love. His face was pale, his blood stained lips contrasting sickly off his unusual complexion. His usually vibrant blue hair was matted and coated in blood and dirt. His eyes reflected only pain and a look neither had seen before; fear deeper than they could have ever believed would come from Grimmjow.

Ichigo flung the robes from his shoulders, the cloak falling to the muddy earth to be forgotten as it got in his way. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes and, without hesitation, he instantly grabbed hold of the dead monster laying on top of the injured cat. Shiro followed his lead and they yanked on the carcass.

The dead beast was so heavy though, and Grimmjow far too weak to aid them, the feline growing weaker with each passing second as the silver still lodged in his flesh bled his strength and power and made the wounds he already held all the worse.

"Ichi, Shiro! What are you guys doing?" A deep voice called behind them, the tone happy and curious. Renji was overjoyed with how well the battle had went, nothing could have tempered his good mood.

Almost nothing.

Two sets of wide, shock and horror filled eyes turned to pin Renji in place; one of swirling gold, the other a rich brown and both swimming with barely held tears.

"Red..." Shiro choked out, hardly able to force words past the lump of panic in his throat.

"...Help us..." Ichigo finished for his twin. They both swung back to the giant dead weight still sitting atop Grimmjow and renewed their efforts, determination and desperation in their every action.

Renji ran to their sides, eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. Without question, he pushed Ichigo toward where Grimmjow's head lay on the cold, blood churned ground, taking the smaller man's place along the corpse. He and Shiro heaved, straining to budge the dead beast.

Ichigo slipped his arms under Grimmjow's, hooking them under the man's shoulders. As the dead monster was lifted fractionally, he dragged the dying cat from under it. Dropping to his knees, he cradled Grimmjow in his lap, smoothing blue strands away from the man's face.

They had seen the man hurt before, damaged and injured, but he had always held onto his fire with a stubborn ferocity. That flame seemed so small in that moment, flickering precariously in the cold, wintery breeze.

Shiro dropped to his knees beside them. A few unnoticed tears streaking his face as he looked the man over. He was covered in half healed gashes and bite wounds, injuries that he should have healed from quickly. The tell tale, deep brusing of broken bones settled along his ribcage, but still it wasn't a life threatening injury. The marks that held his attention were the small ones. Red and inflamed, turning into a bruised and blackish color almost before their eyes; too many tiny wounds to count. Wounds that could have only been made by the spray of a buck shot; a cruel method used when hunting something large that didn't go down easily or was too hard to hit.

Renji stood behind them, unsure what to do and disbelieving that the powerful werepanther could be so injured. He did all he could in that moment. The red head watched over the three men on the ground, making sure that no one bothered them and no left over monsters found them as they spent what could be their last moments with the man; a man Renji knew his friends loved, a man he had befriended and could no longer see as the monster most others saw.

Grimmjow coughed and gasped as he was shifted, pulled further into Ichigo's lap and off the frozen ground. A whimper left his throat, the sound barely loud enough to reach the twins sitting beside him. Shaky hands instantly started digging at the small bullet wounds that covered his body, running on instinct. The silver from the buck shot was keeping him from healing, keeping his body from being able to recover from wounds that wouldn't usually pose a problem and keeping the sword slash that tore through his more vital regions bleeding and opened.

He bared red stained teeth, body spasming as pain lanced through him and his hands fell to his sides weakly. Chest raising in fast, uneven and shallow breaths, Grimmjow forced his clouded blue eyes to focus on the faces above him.

Shiro's feathery, white locks were streaked with drying blood but it wasn't his own, for which the werepanther was immensely grateful. Ichigo's eyes were shadowed and red rimmed from the fatigue of casting such powerful spells but they shone with an emotional pain that nearly made Grimmjow himself hurt, none of the fatigue showing in their deapths. His humans shouldn't look like this. The once might feline vowed he would make those responsible for making his beloved humans cry pay with something far more sinister than death.

Grimmjow's body was shivering, but he couldn't stop, couldn't control it. He was cold, yet the burn of silver still coursed through his veins, hotter than any fire and just as deadly at this point. His vision wavered, darkening in and out as he fought to hold on to his consciousness. The world steadily grew quieter, a deceptive calm settling around him. Prying dulled cyan eyes open and not remembering when he had closed them, Grimmjow watched as brown eyes streamed with unchecked tears and the Caster's paler than normal features twisted with pain as he spoke; shouted pleas that fell on deaf ears.

As his vision failed him, blurring the familiar faces that hovered over him, Grimmjow's keen ears picked up only the sound of a weakly beating heart, the organ working hard to win an already lost battle. The unsteady beat grew painful for a brief moment that seemed to last a life time, making the earth seem to shake. A blast of blinding color filled his vision; tear streaked faces, wide golden orbs and devastated brown. A pale hand reached out, gently running long fingers through his tangled and blood matted hair, whispered words reached his ears, but he could only make out the comforting tone. It was all he needed. He let his eyes close as he listened. So this is what his dreams, his visions, had been portraying. His humans weren't dying in them, then, he was. The once mighty werepanther, now reduced to the shivering form of a man, was fine with that so long as the men he loved were ok.

He had always known he would die in battle.

Grimmjow bared his red stained teeth, his body convulsing in the Caster's grip as a barely audible whine reached the twins' ears. As the bluenette relaxed, his head falling back into the Ichigo's lap, the Caster shook his head in denial, un-noticing of and unable to stop the tears that freely fell to stain his cheeks.

"No...no no no..." He chanted, looking down into glazed azure. "You can't do this, Grimmjow, you can't!"

Beside the Caster, his Undead twin laced shaking fingers with his brothers where his hand sat between them. Shiro looked down at the feline they had both grown to love and knew the man wouldn't make it through this time. It was a gut feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, threatening to make him violently ill. He wiped the tears that blurred his vision from his eyes before reaching out to gently thread his fingers through the man's thick, soft blue hair.

His voice cracking slightly at first, he started humming the tune their mother had once sung to he and his brother. The pale man couldn't find the words, he never could, but he knew Grimmjow was beyond being able to understand them anyway, if he could still hear them at all. So he hummed the tune, soft and gentle, reassuringly and lovingly. He didn't notice the tears that streaked down his own face, falling to the cold ground he kneeled on, nor did he hear the Caster's broken sob as the two humans watch their feline companion in his last moments.

The Fallen deidad's lips quirked up into a slight, contented smile, he barest hint of a purr rumbling deep in his throat, before the man fell still and his chest failed to rise.

••••••

The dawn broke over a crimson stained, snow covered battle field. Nothing stirred to break the silence or disturb the stillness. Snow, white and pure, fell lazily from heavy, foreboding grey clouds, covering the blood and frozen bodies but it's cleansing blanket did little to hide the memories and nightmares of the short lived battle.

Starrk, veered into his four legged wolf form for the first time in decades so that he had three legs to roam on rather than one while his shattered limb healed, sat in the snow, his bushy tail wrapped around his feet as he silently watched over the home of his friend's humans. The seal had vanished with the Caster's grief, but the Alpha and his second would insure they were safe for as long as it took them to recover.

Near by and easily within Starrk's line of sight, Lilynette sniffled a bit, her magenta eyes showing her own sorrow as she hoped her new friends would be ok and come out soon. She laid her head on her crossed paws and held nearly motionless, as she had for the past several days, the same as her older sibling had, the same as Nnoitra had. None of the three would leave their posts as the twins hid within their fortress like home.

Days went by, uncounted and unnoticed. The sun brought nothing but another day of his absence, the lack of his commanding presence, wild aura, feral beauty.

Visitors came and went, unacknowledged as they pounded on the heavy, metal front door, the echos hollow and dead as they rang through the still keep. Renji's deep voice shouted and begged through the door, wanting nothing more than to know his friends were still alive. Each day he was ignored, yet each day he came back, tried again. What would he think of the red head if he knew Renji hadn't been there for the twins, his lovers, for the humans he had given his heart and life for?

The days turned to a week, nights giving no relief, darkness only making his absence even more pronounced. The lack of his deep, steady breathing was deafening, the missing beat of a strong, fierce heart enough to drive both men to tears in the quiet of the large fortress that was suddenly so empty.

Ichigo whimpered, curled next to his twin's fitfully sleeping form. The near-albino twitched with his unrelenting dreams, snowy brow creased in distress. His arm's tightened around the slightly smaller form in his grasp, his King held desperately to his chest. Neither had been able to sleep since it had happened; tired and worn, emotionally and physically drained, they had nothing left to give. Not for themselves, not for anyone else. The wounds were raw, bleeding, scared over to be torn open again, if not physically than mentally. It didn't matter.

He was all that mattered.

Hardly able to summon the strength to drag themselves from their bed, a bed that still smelled of him, neither man noticed or cared as they both began to loose weight and the Caster's pallor began to match his twin's. Food tasted of ash and wouldn't stay down, so they didn't bother trying to eat. Sleep wouldn't consume them, giving them reverie from their waking thoughts and emotions and the rare occasions one or the other managed to drift off for more than a few minutes, nothing but haunting images and dulled, blue eyes waited in the darkness behind closed lids.

But he was gone.

The Caster jerked in his own sleep, hands unconsciously clutching at Shirosaki's gaunt form. Blood coated the walls of his mind, screams and the sounds of the dying rang through the trees of his dreamscape. The young man, long orange hair limp and lifeless, shivered and whimpered, the sound nearly inaudible.

_A voice called through the forest, the territory familiar, safe, the voice deep, smooth yet rough. The trees were bare, snow coating the branches and the ground. All was still, silent except for the echo of a voice he would never hear again. But the forest remembered, the creatures that lived near by remembered him. Nothing had dared set foot on the once fiercely protected and guarded land, nothing encroached on his territory, his lingering memory enough to protect his forest._

_Another echo reached Ichigo's ears, bringing disbelieving tears to his hazy brown eyes. _

"_Ichigo."_

Shiro stirred as the man in his arms gasped with shock, the undercurrent of a single word uttered in the breath, the voice familiar but not quite Ichigo's. The pale twin's mind was too clouded with sorrow and an overwhelming void to distinguish it. It was forgotten as tears slipped from below closed lids to wet his bared chest. He wrapped his arms tighter about Ichigo's slim form, knowing his King to be dreaming. Gold on black eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. The Undead had never before felt so lifeless as he had in these past few days...this past week...as he had in that moment.

_He ran, uncaring that he was barefoot, not noticing the cold that seeped into his nearly naked body nor the snow that still fell, the snow that had hardly stopped falling since it happened, since the first and last battle of a short lived but bloody war had ended. He was alive, he was there and Ichigo searched for his memory, for his comforting weight, for his gorgeous blue eyes and untamable spirit._

"_Over here...Ichigo..." The voice was unmistakable, the strange echo making it hard to pin point, but it was there, battle weary and haggard, but it was him._

_The Caster sent his senses outward, following the voice with his ears and considerable magic, the magic he had trained and studied so hard to master so that he would be able to protect those he cared about. But he had failed._

_He panted as he ran on, searching and shouting the name he had grown so fond of. His words, his pleads and questions made no sound, dying in the cold air before they even left his tongue._

_A familiar mound came into view, a single, still growing tree marking the head of the small grave, a crimson leaf splayed atop the fresh snow that should have buried it long ago._

"_I'm sorry...Ichigo...this is the best I can manage...for now..."_

_Somehow, the Caster understood the unspoken words behind what the voice said. He was out of strength, unable to leave wherever he was, trapped and incapable of seeking the Caster out. The temple. Ichigo ran for the grand temple, knowing he would be perched upon his throne of twisted bone, more fitting now than ever._

Shiro grunted weakly as an elbow dug into his ribs, awakening him from the light daze he had managed to slip back under. Ichigo bolted upright, eyes still closed as he nearly tumbled from the bed.

"King?" He asked, his voice quiet yet loud in the deafening silence of their home, the distorted quality more pronounced from what may have been days without speaking. He hadn't been bothered to count.

Ichigo didn't respond, still lost in his tormenting dream. Shaking slightly, whether from cold or lack of strength, the Caster scrambled down the stairs and toward the door. Shiro jumped from the bed and quickly followed after his twin.

"King? King, wake up!"

_Tears blurred the orangette's vision but he ran unfaltering through the arched door way, hardly taking the time to realize it wasn't ravaged and worn by time any longer. The beautifully carved columns were polished and moss free, white and flawless. The floor was smooth as marble, the walls solid and perfect, as beautiful as the day it had been constructed. All went unnoticed. All except for the figure on the gorgeous throne._

_A slim tail swayed behind the chair's back, the tip flicking in a motion only a feline could manage; slow and sensual but lazy and relaxed. Sleek, blue-black fur shimmered as if by firelight, smooth and silky. Long, powerful legs were splayed before the figure, muscled abdomen unpierced by the horrid silver that had marred it. No wounds touched the perfect flesh, no silver bullets, nor cuts, not even a scratch. There was no evidence to show that the feline deidad had been injured...had bled out in the snow...had died in the Caster's arms._

_Ichigo couldn't pull his gaze away from vivid, impossibly blue orbs. Cyan eyes with slitted pupils, eyes that held a sad, apologetic regret, eyes that spoke of immense weariness and fatigue, of pain too deep to heal. Not a physical pain, but an emotional pain, one that only the Caster and his brother could cure, and only if they could pull themselves from the deep abyss that had consumed their waking and sleeping worlds._

"_Grimmjow..." The word was broken, coming out as a nearly soundless sob, uttered from a broken man with a damaged, lifeless spirit._

"Grimmjow..." Shiro nearly collapsed as he heard the quiet, broken sob escape his sleep walking twin's lips. Salty tears ran unchecked down ashen, pale cheeks, the dark circles around his eyes all the more pronounced against his lily skin.

The near-albino raced forward, grabbing at Ichigo's wrist as they stumbled through the forest, bare feet crunching through snow. Neither noticed the set of grey, sorrow stricken eyes that followed their moves, nor the violet one that reflected much the same. "King...he ain't out here..." Shiro whispered through his tears, unable to force his wavering voice much louder. "Wake up, King..."

_Dark brows seemed to pull together, a slight frown marring the feline's features. Ears fell slightly, loosing their alert quality and making the werepanther look as sad and tired as he felt. Blue eyes swam with barely held tears as they looked down at the Caster almost kneeling at the foot of his throne. Ichigo wasn't meant to bow before him, not for any reason. The Caster and his twin had always been strong, so much stronger than this._

"_Ichigo..." Grimmjow's deep voice wrapped around the temple's inner sanctum, forcing the trembling human to wipe his eyes and look up too meet his gaze. "This isn't you...your brother...I am sorry..."_

_Ichigo understood what the feline was trying to get across. Something whispered in the back of his mind, the link that had ever connected he and the feline and his beloved brother. The Caster shook his head in denial of the apology. Grimmjow had nothing to apologize for, he had done all he could, was still doing all he could. Ichigo realized how much it must hurt him to see Shiro and himself in such a state of waste...weakened and unwilling to even take care of themselves..._

_A slight smile crossed feline lips, reaching sorrow filled eyes. The werepanther gave an almost imperceptible nod to the Caster's thoughts. He didn't move from his throne as he spoke in a gentle voice, looking worn out, his chest heaving a little harder than it should have been for his lack of motion. The words he spoke cut in and out, as if projected on a bad signal. "It'll take more...harder to kill a deidad...after all..."_

"King...please..." Shiro clutched the weakly struggling Caster close to him, sinking to his knees as Ichigo cried against his neck and chest. He didn't understand why Ichigo wouldn't wake up. Hardly noticing the tears that continued to streak his features to mix with the Caster's, Shiro gently rocked Ichigo back and forth where they sat in the snow. He couldn't loose Ichigo too...his King had to be alright...he had to wake up...how could he, the Undead, be the last one left alive? Ichigo needed to wake up.

"_I love you...Ichigo...you and Shiro..."_

_Ichigo choked out another sob, trying to stumble closer to the werepanther perched on the white throne like a true King, a true deity. He tried to reach out to Grimmjow, but his body wouldn't move, wouldn't listen to his commands._

"_Tell Shiro...for me..." The werepanther said, a slightly sad tone in his deep, velveteen voice._

_Ichigo could feel the pull on his consciousness, he could almost hear the faint, lilting voice of his twin calling his name, desperation evident in the watery cries. It was nearly the same tone he had cried in when first raised and it broke Ichigo's heart just a bit more. He understood what was happening, understood he couldn't stay much longer. Grimmjow knew it too, he could tell by the cat's saddened but excepting and understanding expression._

"_I will..." The Caster almost shouted to the fading figure seated on the throne. "I'll tell him...I...we love you too...Grimm..."_

Ichigo jerked awake at the foot of the stairs that led to a once grand temple, gasping a name as he fell forward into his brother's chest. "...Grimm..." He breathed, tasting the salt from his own tears as he whispered the name.

He looked up at Shiro's liquid gaze, seeing relief, pain and regret flood the man's eyes. The near full moon cast them in deep shadows, pronouncing the damage that time had worn on the mighty temple and the surrounding grounds, a reminder of how very dead it truly was. The near-albino slowly shook his head, unable to meet his twin's eyes. "No...King...He's not here..."

Ichigo stared up at the pale man, seconds that seemed like eternity ticking by before he surged to his feet. Stumbling through the snow, his legs and feet having gone numb long before he had awakened to realize it, Ichigo climbed the wide staircase. "He is! I saw him...he's here!" He whispered desperately. He burst through the temple's arched, crumbling doorway, his wide, dark ringed brown eyes landing on the throne.

Shiro caught up to him, yanking the trembling Caster into a strong embrace before Ichigo could collapse back to the ground, brown eyes never leaving the throne of twisted bone.

"I'm sorry, King...I'm so sorry..." Shiro quietly sobbed into long, orange hair, uncaring that Ichigo would see how weak he truly was. "...he's gone..."

Ichigo allowed desperate, heart wrenching sobs to finally break him as he trembled in his brother's embrace, staring at the empty throne.

"he's gone..."


	20. Epilogue

**This took me a little longer than I had expected to finish, but it's finished as promised nonetheless~  
>The epilogue takes place a few weeks after the battle, the dream Ichigo had in the last chapter taking place somewhere between the two events. just clarifying on the timeline ^_^<br>**

**Enjoy~  
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><p>With a heavy heart, Renji pounded on the thick door to Ichigo and Shiro's large home. Several weeks had passed since their fierce companion had been taken from them and the twins had locked themselves away, time that had seemed to flow much too fast and yet seemed to drag on for an eternity all at once.<p>

The red head paused, listening to the resounding echos of his knocking carry through the inner hallway of the home before bouncing back to him through the door. It was as though the building, hardly feeling like much of a home anymore, was empty and lifeless; an unsettling thought that plagued the man everyday. Yet everyday, without fail, Renji made the trip out to their home. Even as the snow had continued to deepen, he would traverse through the forest, still wary of the dangerous creatures that used to lurk the trees, though he had nothing to fear. Starrk's Pack remained loyal to the once great werepanther even in his absence and no harm would come to Renji or the two humans the Fallen deidad had given his life to.

A saddened but unsurprised frown marring his features, Renji scrubbed a hand down his face after a moment. As he had expected, no one had answered the door this day either. But he refused to give up, he would find a way to break down the solid door if he had to, just so long as he figured out what had happened to Shiro and Ichigo. He didn't care what they thought of him afterward, he just needed to know that they were ok, that they were alive and hadn't done something stupid.

He raised his hand to knock again but just as his fist was about to collide with the door, the faint click of a lock stilled his motion and froze the red head in place. Cinnamon hued eyes wide with surprise and slight apprehension, Renji waited for a moment, waited for the door to swing open, for one of the two to greet him, to shout through the metal portal or step out from inside, anything. Anything at all.

Nothing happened and Renji let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Flattening his palm against the smooth metal of the door, he gave a gentle push and waited as the heavy portal swung open on silent hinges to reveal the familiar interior of the twins' once lively home.

The hallway within was dark and no lights shown from any of the doorways lining it. The pictures in their frames that decorated the walls were covered in dust and the red tinted, dried and caked mud on the floor of the entryway had the look of an old mess that had been left uncleaned.

Renji was silent as he stepped through, quietly closing the door behind him. He was met with more silence; a thick silence that spoke of dread and torment, of loathing and pain, a hush that felt heavy and stifling, like it could drown one if they stayed too long, but it was a living silence nonetheless.

The red head edged down the hall and peered around the door frame of the sitting room, a room that had once been the home's occupant's favored room, with a lively fireplace, great tales to spin and laughs to be had. Now, the room was silent. No fire cast a warm glow, no shadows danced across the wooden floor, no one occupied the high backed and regal looking chairs. One such chair had been knocked over, quite the feat with the ornate furniture's weight, and slid across the floor where it came to a rest against the far wall. Scrape marks showed the path it's wooden feet and arms had created in the dark wooden floor, a testament to the perpetrator's state of mind. On the side table that sat between the chairs the twins used to claim for themselves sat two, silver plated handguns. The once cherished weapons hadn't been cleaned after the battle and the lack of care showed on the less than shinning silver and the greenish tint the trigger and a few other places were beginning to take on. A few silver slugs lay scattered near them, strewn across the table from the emptied clip and left to lay after the owner, none other than Shirosaki, had given up on whatever he had been trying to do.

Renji was about to continue to the next room when a pale figure caught his attention. Huddled on the floor, his back facing toward the red haired man, sat Shirosaki like a pale shadow in the darkened room. His long, ashen locks had been left unbound to hang in a tangled mess down his bare back and flow over his shoulders. Renji's expression showed nothing but sorrow as he noted how thin the man looked. Even from across the room and in the dark, he could see the pale twin's ribs and spine beginning to show where lean but strong muscle had once covered. The few wounds he had taken during the battle were raw and puckered from the lack of medical attention, the need to be cleaned and dressed obvious.

Stepping quietly into the room and wondering where Ichigo was, surprised that the two would leave each other's side at all, Renji watched the near-albino as he sat unmoving, his back bowed and shoulders hunched in obvious fatigue and grief.

"Shiro...?" He called in a quiet voice, unsure if breaking the heavy silence was a good idea or not. The man, his friend, didn't seem to be in the best mind set, mentally and physically scarred by what had happened. Though, how could he not be, how could either of them not be?

The pale man seemed to flinch slightly at his voice, but he slowly turned to look over his shoulder and pin the red head with wide, haunted eyes, the normally swirling gold seeming to dance with less fire and hide more sinking emotions. Dark circles showed the near-albino's many sleepless nights and horror filled dreams and as he spoke, his lilting voice was brittle and uneven. "H...Hey, Red..."

At Shiro's voice, a pair of lightly tanned, thin arms snaked around the near-albino's waist, long fingered hands seeming to shake, if only slightly. Ichigo's head lifted off his brother's chest to peer over his twin's shoulder at Renji with much the same haunted expression as Shiro held, his normally warm brown eyes dull and reflecting almost nothing at all.

"Hey, Ichi..." Renji greeted quietly, edging closer to the two before lowering himself to sit cross legged on the floor beside the twins. He received the very barest hint of a smile, really just a slight relief to the deep and pained frown the Caster had etched across his features.

Ichigo let his head fall to rest on his brother's chest again, tilted to the side so that he could look at their friend, his features drawn with a deep mental and physical exhaustion, dark circles ringing his eyes as well. His orange hair had been tied in a tail, but it had lost it's luster from malnourishment and hung limply across the man's narrow shoulders. Much like his twin, the Caster had lost the definition of his leanly muscled physique, the bone structure of his ribs showing through his paler than normal skin while his shoulder blades protruded much further than they should have. His body didn't seem to hold the same cuts and bruises Shiro's did, the near-albino had done a hell of a job in protecting his beloved twin between castings, but Ichigo looked just as beaten up and warn down, just as drained and lifeless.

Shiro rested his chin on the top of the Caster's head, his pale arms circling around the more colorful man's shoulders. The two held each other in a loving and comforting embrace, just as it had always been yet it seemed lacking somehow. Renji realized that it wasn't that anything was lacking, just that the third man, the man that had completed them, was missing. He would be forever missing...and it showed.

Just as it had been before they had learned of the werewolves' plans, seeming so long ago now, it was awkward to try talking to the near-albino, or either of the twins for that matter. However, it was for an entirely different reason this time and Renji had no idea what to say to the two. His first thought was to ask how they were doing. That would have been anyone's first question, but he could see the evidance of how they were doing for himself, written clearly on the twins' bodies and in their eyes. It could have only been cruel to ask such a thing, so he held his question as he looked at the two.

These two men, the twins he had and always would call his friends, were broken in nearly every way. Their mental and emotional wounds far out weighed the damage that a mortal body could take. If they were to pull through, they would need time and help to heal those wounds. But then, Renji thought they already realized that, at least on some level, else he wouldn't have been granted entry, he wouldn't have been allowed to see them like this; broken and brittle, less than themselves. Finally rewarding his perseverance had been a silent plea louder than any scream for help from the only person they had left to turn to.

After a moment with nothing being said, Renji climbed back to his feet and crossed the room to disappear through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. He would gladly answer their silent scream for the help they needed, he would not fail them. Ichigo and Shiro were strong, so much stronger than they realized, they would pull through. But before they could begin healing the emotional scarring, their bodies would need to be healed so that they had the strength to try.

Doing what he did best and feeling like history was repeating once again, the red head quickly set about putting something together that the twins would be able to eat, something that their battered and malnourished systems would be able to handle. It was clear they hadn't been eating, at least not properly and he knew getting nourishment into their bodies would go a long way in giving them their strength back. He pulled pots and pans out, being as quiet as he could after witnessing how Shiro had jumped at his voice only minutes ago. Digging through the twins' fridge and cupboards, Renji found a few things he could make a decent soup out of. It wouldn't be much, but it would be easy for them to eat and hopefully would be something their abused and neglected stomachs would be able to handle.

After setting the pot on the stove, Renji filled a bowl with hot, soapy water and another with luke warm water. Grabbing a few clean towels, he carefully carried the two bowls into the sitting room.

The two brothers hadn't moved from where they sat on the hard floor, seeming to not notice the cold, or perhaps they were already numbed from it. The only shift in their positions was that Ichigo had turned his head to hide his face against Shiro's neck, while the near-albino continued to stare sightlessly at the wall mere feet behind the Caster. Their posture was one of defeat, on the verge of giving up on almost everything. Almost everything. They, for all the world, looked like they were still trying to hold onto each other, protect one another from something they knew they would never be able to.

Renji set the bowls down beside them, laying the towels next to those before straightening and crossing the room again. He grabbed a thick blanket from the back of one of the untoppled chairs. With gentle and careful movements, he draped it around Ichigo's gaunt form, gently wrapping it around him and tucking it close, before settling himself down on the floor near Shiro. His mother had worked alongside Ichigo and Shiro's father in the village hospital and so Renji knew what he was doing as he carefully began cleaning the deeper, grime and blood crusted gashes that marred the pale man's colorless flesh with the hot, soapy water.

Both twins remained silent as the red head went to work, though Ichigo lifted his head slightly to watch over Shiro's shoulder and meet Renji's eyes for the first time since he had arrived. Behind the sorrow that damped the Caster's normally shining orbs, appreciation and gratitude reflected back at Renji and the red head nodded slightly, offering the Caster a slightly worried but genuine smile before directing his attention back to the wounds he was treating.

They were few and probably wouldn't have been much to worry about had they been treated sooner. However, neither twin had had the energy or ability to summon the concern needed to care for them and the wounds had been left to fester, beginning to heal only to be reopened with the Undead's movements. They only didn't bleed now because the fresh fluids couldn't seep through the thick scabs of old, dried blood that coated them as the onset of infection began to show it's self.

As Renji moved to one of the deeper cuts, probably the worst of the few marks Shiro had received those weeks ago, the pale man hissed a quite breath between clenched teeth but still refused to move even as his grip around Ichigo tightened with the sting. Renji dipped the soiled cloth back into the soapy water, ringing red tinted water out before continuing again. After they were cleaned out, he used a fresh towel and the luke warm, clean water to gently wipe away the soap and traces of blood.

Once done, Renji looked up as he began patting the cuts and gashes dry with another clean towel to see that Shiro's brow was furrowed as he stared at the wall. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears but Renji had his doubts that it was completely from whatever pain the cleaning had caused. More likely, the man felt guilty for something or another that he had no business feeling guilty over. Ichigo slowly unwound his arms from around Shiro's waist to sit up slightly, looking into his twin's inverted eyes as if sensing or knowing whatever it was.

Renji watched as their gazes locked and something silent but strong passed between them, the two were far too close to need words to communicate with one another. A pale hand reached up, the backs of long fingers gently brushing the Caster's jaw line before Shiro leaned forward. Their lips brushed in the barest ghosting of touch, neither emotionally capable of engaging the other in a full kiss. It was over as quickly as Shiro had initiated it, but the simple notion of what the touch meant was enough. Both turned to look at the red head, their eyes not quite so empty as they had been before, but instead filled with so much overflowing emotion; pain, sorrow, regret, love and too many others to name. Enough to nearly stagger the red head, tearing at his heart and making him hurt for them.

It had taken days, very nearly a week, before Ichigo had finally been able to find the words to tell Shiro what he had dreamt that night, what he had seen on a night that seemed so very long ago. It had nearly crippled the pale twin, bringing him to his knees in not so silent tears as Ichigo trembled in his embrace, voice cracking with raw pain. That had been a full night and day ago and the twins had hardly moved from where they had collapsed at, not a word being passed between each other, but then, they didn't need the spoken words and both had come to the same conclusion.

For Grimmjow, they would try.

As Ichigo spoke in a quiet, broken tone, tears beginning to streak his cheeks, Renji listened, finding it hard not to cry along side his friends. He listened as the Caster told him about the dream he had had, about how Grimmjow, even weakened as he had seemed, had sought him out and had done all he could to make sure Ichigo and Shiro knew how he felt and received his parting words. He told the red head of their once mighty companion's sorrow and how he had seemed so tired and broken after seeing how the twins were fairing in his absence. When the Caster's suddenly so frail looking shoulders began bobbing slightly, his words faltering, Renji leaned in to wrap his arms around the grieving twins and pull them close, uncaring as salty tears soaked both sides of his shirt.

They sat like that for nearly an hour, the twins not bothering to hide their still very fresh wounds, wounds deeper than any cut, as Renji offered his support and shoulder, rubbing slow, reassuring circles gently across their backs. Between Ichigo and Shiro, their hands linked, squeezing tight enough to whiten Ichigo's knuckles to match Shiro's, hands trembling slightly. Finally, they pulled back, the tears no longer flowing but leaving them drained and even more tired looking than before. Both shivered and trembled slightly in wake of their emotional release and the cold they were finally beginning to feel again.

Renji climbed to his feet, carefully pulling the two slightly smaller men with him, though they were a little unbalanced from having sat upon the hard floor for so long. With slow steps he guided them to a chair, knowing they would never part so that each could take their own seat. As he had expected, Shiro sat down making himself comfortable as Ichigo curled on his lap, resting his head back on Shiro's chest.

They didn't bother hiding the not so usual relationship they held as they once had and some part of Renji was glad for that. He had already realized long ago that they loved each other more than the way simple brothers would and he knew how much that bond would help them in this.

The red head let a slight smile tilt the corners of his lips before leaving the room to check on the meal he had been preparing. Luckily, he had chosen something that wouldn't burn if left to simmer. After a bit of protesting from Ichigo and Shiro and a bit of convincing on Renji's part, he managed to get the two to eat at least a few bites before they set aside their bowls, looking throughly worn out.

Before either of the two could begin to get up and take the dishes to the kitchen, Renji snagged them, receiving a quiet thank you from the Caster. By the time he came back into the room, only a couple minutes having gone by, Renji rounded the chair the twins sat in to find them sound asleep, intertwined and clinging onto one another almost desperately, but asleep. The pained expressions were gone from their drawn features and neither whimpered or twitched with haunting nightmares. It was deep and much needed sleep, blessedly devoid of memories or thought, a blackness that swallowed them and brought relief for the first time in weeks.

Renji pulled the blanket over the two, not wanting to wake them to send them to a bed he knew they wouldn't sleep in, before crossing the chilly room to light a small fire in the empty hearth. The flames that flickered reluctantly but hungrily to life played across the shinning glass of a nearly empty jar that sat atop the mantle, a mangled silver slug resting at it's bottom. The blood that had once coated the bullet and the sides of the glass had dried, flaking to the bottom of the jar and blackening until it hardly looked like blood and the jar's flat lid was coated in dust but neither twin would ever work up the desire to remove or get rid of it. It would be weeks until they worked up the nerve to so much as clean the little jar, but it would forever sit on the mantle of their fireplace where he had placed it so long ago as a sign to them that he had been there.

Tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, Renji wondered down the hall back toward the front door, lost in thought. There was no way he could leave them like this, not while they were still so fragile and broken. He knew it would take time, but he would be there for them in every way he could. The red head mechanically led his horse into one of the empty stables in the twins' barn, happy to see that the twins' animals had been left free of their stables, the barn door left open to let them into the fenced off corral behind.

As the red head was laying out fresh hey in the stables, his own horse now occupying one while Shiro's stallion and one of the spare horses had wondered outside to nose through the slowly lessening snow, the beasts shied away from the entrances of their stalls. From outside, he heard as the more aggressive stallion brayed it's distress before the other's began snorting and pawing at the ground nervously, eyes wide and rolling.

The nearly silent scratching of claw on wood had Renji spinning around to face the barn's entrance. His own eyes widened as they landed on the hulking, shadowed form of a werewolf taking up the entire doorway. For a split second, Renji felt panic stir in his gut, thoughts of the creatures they had fought against swirling in his mind, before a smaller, four legged form hobbled around the larger werecreature, it's stormy grey eyes shining in the dim light.

Starrk, still favoring his shattered limb and stuck in his wolf body, glanced up at his towering second before limping closer to the human, his eyes swirling with open concern and curiosity. "You have been granted entry."

Renji sighed quietly, both in relief as his pounding heart resumed a normal beat with the recognition of the wolves that had entered and at the wolf's inquiry. He nodded, looking down at the Alpha's smaller, four legged form.

He didn't have to look down far. While being much smaller than his resurrection, he was still much larger than a natural born wolf. Rather than standing roughly waist height like a normal wolf, the Alpha's big head and grayish tan muzzle was nearly level with Renji's chest.

"How are they?" Starrk's deep voice was quiet, seeming almost timid to ask and apprehensive about the answer. While he had known of them for a while now, he had only connected with the two strange humans through their feline companion, yet he found that he already held a soft spot for the two. Like Grimmjow had been, they would always be considered part of his Pack whether they wanted it or not.

Renji shrugged a bit and shook his head, plowing his fingers through his long red mane and leaning back against the door of the stall his nervous horse was currently in. How was he supposed to find words to tell the Alpha how very distraught the twins were? How lost they seemed, how haunted and broken and near the point of giving up they still were? Anything he told the wolf would fall miserably short of the devastating truth.

Starrk seemed to understand the red head's issue and what it meant. With a simple, barely noticeable nod, the wolf's wise gaze drifted away from Renji and the quiet of the barn seemed almost as stifling and remorseful as in the large home with Ichigo and Shiro. After a moment, Starrk broke the quiet and spoke aloud what they both knew, his deep baritone voice nearly a whisper. "He would not wish for this."

"I know..." Renji told the wolf in an equally quiet voice as he too stared off at nothing in particular. After a second, he looked back to meet the Alpha's eyes. "And they know too..."

Starrk nodded his understanding before turning back toward Nnoitra, still taking up the entrance with his massive form, having to duck just to do so. Even with the creature's pronounced limp as he tried to put as little weight on his injured leg as possible, the Alpha moved about silently in a way only a creature of the forest could.

"Uhh...Starrk..." Renji hesitated. Months ago, he would have never found himself talking with a werecreature that could have killed him with ease had it wanted to, now it was almost as if he were simply talking to another man. Grimmjow had changed so much in the short time he had known the werepanther.

"Yes?" The Alpha turned to look back at the human, feeling his hesitation as well as easily hearing it in his voice.

Renji vaguely gestured to the wolf's injured leg and his second while he spoke. "How...how are you and your Pack fairing?"

A slightly sad smile seemed to curl canine lips. "Even to the victors, battle is rarely something to be celebrated." A lesson learned from centuries of experience, the Alpha turned to leave once again. His injury would heal, his Pack would rebuild and had come out mostly intact but they had still had many that hadn't made it or would be crippled forever. Yet even though he had once been their greatest enemy, the loss of the feline seemed to be what hurt the most, both for the soft hearted Alpha, and for his Pack. His deep voice called back to Renji as he exited the barn, Nnoitra loyally and silently at his side. "The Pack will recover, as will I. Though this cold is tiring."

The days that followed were trying at best and nearly unlivable at worst, filled with the tears, screams and pleads of desperate, broken men but their determination was clear and their friend refused to leave their sides. The absence of the creature they had loved and would forever love would never weigh any less heavily on their hearts but it was for his sake that Ichigo and Shiro were determined learn how to cope without him. For Grimmjow, they would try. For him, they would survive and strive to regain their happiness.

Somedays were easier than others. Somedays, they wouldn't lay in bed all day, drowning in their grief and tears. Somedays they would drag themselves down the stairs, help Renji with the cooking or the cleaning that so desperately needed done. The chair that had been knocked over in the same fit of rage that had left Shiro's guns in disarray had been righted. The near-albino eventually cleaned his treasured weapons, spending hours on a task that would have normally took him a few minutes. Ichigo carefully, meticulously cleaned the dried mud and evidance of Grimmjow's injuries off his robes, fixing the tear that a stray werewolf had made in the back of them.

All the while, Renji payed close attention to his friends while he went about his self imposed duties, unable to miss as the two would occasionally loose themselves in dire and haunting memories, flinching from the unseen and unheard scenes that replayed in their minds. At times he forced them to eat or do other things, much like he had Ichigo after the accident that had taken Shiro from the Caster. Other times they would sit around the table together in quiet conversation or in mostly comfortable silence.

Days passed, turning into weeks. The physical injuries were healed, but the emotional ones were deep and slow to mend, slow to scar over and begin fading.

Starrk limped around in his wolf form most of the time, unhappy about it but unable to prevent it. As the shattered bones of his leg began mending, he veered into his resurrection more often. He led his Pack as only he had ever been able to and the members worked on healing their own wounds during their time of relative peace, a peace that hadn't been seen in generations.

The Alpha kept at least one wolf posted near the humans' home at all times, insuring their safety and the peace and quiet they no doubt needed to do the healing Grimmjow would have wished for and would have protected them during. The werepanther's absence in his forest hadn't gone unnoticed, but it hadn't had the same effect as the first time he had left his territory unguarded. Nothing set foot in the cherished forest, the only life being that of the plants and the natural born animals he had ever looked after. Not a single wolf, natural or of werecreature heritage, dared set foot within what had once been his borders. Only Starrk and Nnoitra did so, and even that was rare, only when needed to continue their patrol and insure that it remained an untouched sanctuary.

Urahara and his operation had ultimately been forced into the light for the citizens to see, though the effects had hardly been what anyone would have expected. Even with the war over and the threat eliminated, the majority of the citizens had accepted what the strange shopkeeper did under his small shop. He and his partners were now free to patrol and go about their business in the open and in the daylight, studying the werecreatures and other mythical beasts that surrounded them.

One of his first tasks had been confirming the suspicion tearing at his gut and the man's fan didn't hide the smile it usually did as he examined the sword and the few silver pellets he had managed to collect after word of the once-deidad's death had reached him. Instead, it hid the downward curve of a regretful frown. He had seen how distraught the twins had been as they clutched their more than human companion, arriving on scene after Starrk's deep howl had rang sorrowful and knowingly through the suddenly much too still air of the aftermath.

He had very nearly received a silver bullet of his own as he had ignored Renji's warnings for him to leave them be and the Caster had turned a look so very full of pain and lose on him. The two unique men had handled their grief differently at first; Ichigo with open pain and tears while Shiro cried as his anger took over in a slightly destructive display, but he suspected both were grieving and lost still.

Much to Urahara's horror, his suspicions had proven correct and it had indeed been his missing weapon that had killed the Fallen werecreature. He sent Kenpachi in search of the small, raven haired woman. The blond himself had paid a visit to her brother, recognizing the crest of old royalty on the hilt of the sword that had been left to impale the werepanther. The eldest Kuchiki hadn't seen nor heard anything of his sister, not before the battle and not since. Kenpachi, a master at what he did, had returned empty handed. No one had seen anything of the missing woman and Rukia had left no trace. They had even gone so far as breaking into Renji's home after the third visit that he hadn't been home during. Everything seemed untouched, both within the home and in the stables. Rukia had simply vanished. Urahara suspected, should she have survived the journey to where ever she had gone, that she would return one day, but she was a strong and independent woman and that day would likely be years down the road.

Urahara didn't dare try to visit the Caster and Undead, fearing that silver bullet would hit it's mark this time, since Shiro's outburst would have ended and the pale man would probably have a much calmer aim. However, aside from not being granted access to their home, he would have had nothing to fear.

It wasn't in Ichigo and Shiro's nature to do such a thing and the original incident had been emotionally driven during a time of instability. They put as little thought into who had killed their cherished companion as possible and though in the backs of their minds, both suspected who had been responsible, neither would voice it aloud. To do so would be to invite much more pain than either could deal with, as well as harming Renji in the process. The subject would do no one any good. It wouldn't bring him back and it was left buried.

On one of the twins' better days, the two busied themselves with washing the dishes Renji had dirtied for another meal he had prepared for three. Much to the red head's pleased surprise, he looked up from placing the left overs in the fridge to see Ichigo locked in place by Shiro, their lips connected in a passionate kiss, dishes and soapy water all but forgotten. Face heating up slightly, Renji quickly turned away from the scene and ignored the two, but he couldn't help the smile that curved his features.

The two broke the kiss, still unable to take it much further even had Renji not been in the room and continued doing the dishes. But it was a start, a step in the right direction and a sign that however slowly, the two were beginning to heal.

Shiro finished scrubbing the porcelain bowl in his hands, dipping it back into the soapy water before passing it to Ichigo for the Caster to rinse and dry. Ichigo froze as his fingers brushed the smooth surface, letting the bowl slip from Shiro's grasp to splash into the sink. The Caster's eyes widened slightly as his brows furrowed and he inhaled a quick, short breath as something in the back of his mind stirred in a way it hadn't in more than a month.

Both of the other men in the room paused in what they were doing to look at him. Renji's eyes, showing confusion and worry, drifted to meet Shiro's inverted orbs before settling back on the still frozen Caster. Shiro, a sneer beginning to curl his upper lip, reached behind his back to where his favored handgun rested as he automatically peered out the window to their yard beyond. But the magical barrier had yet to be reconstructed and could not have been the source of Ichigo's reaction nor the catch in his mind. The pale twin realized this just as Ichigo seemed to shake himself from his surprise.

He grasped his brother's arm as he turned wide eyes to Shiro, unable to form words through his swirling confusion and disbelieving surprise. Shiro was given a moment to notice that tears had begun to collect in the Caster's eyes before the next stage of whatever was happening was set into motion. A nearly crippling wave of pain flooded the two, crashing almost physically into them with it's unexpected intensity. Ichigo stumbled backward, still clutching onto Shiro for support while the near-albino braced himself against the sink's edge, one hand clutching at his head while he grit his teeth as the link binding them to each other trembled.

It lasted barely a minute and the two were given enough time to recognize Renji's worried voice from near by as the link that connected them quieted down, seeming to breathe and let the pain ebbed on that intake of air. Wide, shocked gold met soft brown that held nearly the same look. Without a word between the two, Ichigo turned and scrambled from the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself as he pushed his still recovering body into a more rigorous motion than either of the two had seen since the battle. Shiro, on his twin's heals, caught himself with a hand against the wall of the hallway while he took the turn from the kitchen as quickly as he could.

They said nothing as they hurried down the hall, words not being needed to express the confusion and uncertainty they both felt. There had been no denying the flavor the pain from the link had held and whether it was real or not, they wouldn't and couldn't just ignore it. They would do all they could to find it's source.

Confused and a little worried, Renji yelled out to them as he threw off his surprise and followed them down the hall. Before they could make it to the front door, at nearly the same time, Ichigo and Shiro both cried out in pain as the link flared to life once again, the strength redoubled and crippling in it's intensity. Ichigo collapsed under the pressure to his mind, his sensitivity and connection to the magic much stronger than his twin's. Shiro nearly tripped over him to stumble passed before he too hit the floor. Feature's twisted with pain, the twins curled in on the assault to their minds Renji couldn't even begin to imagine, clutching at their heads and writhing on the smooth floor. So overwhelmed by the electric like current running through them, neither of the two men were able to so much as utter a noise to express that pain, let alone were capable of acknowledging their friend.

"Ichi? Shiro?" Renji slid to a halt on his knees beside them, at a lose as to what he should do or what was going on with his friends. Panic tinted his words and made his voice rise as it wavered. The twins ignored him, unable to hear his worried voice or feel his hands as he tried desperately to figure out what was going on and how to help them.

From the tree line, a howl broke the still evening air as the red head's worried voice reached the wolf stationed to watch over the home. It was a call to the Alpha that something was going on with the humans he seemed intent on protecting. As soon as the hollow voice cut through the air, Starrk's head snapped up, his ears perked to listen. The message was easily read and he took off, dropping what he had been doing without a second thought. Nnoitra, also hearing the call, as had the rest of the Pack, joined his leader in the corridor that led to the entrance of the den. The two wolves took up a swift, ground devouring pace, Starrk's shorter, three legs able to keep up with Nnoitra's lanky, two legged form. The miles were covered in minutes, quickly bringing them into range of Renji's worried tone.

Without hesitation, Starrk sailed over where the magical barrier had once been. He and Nnoitra rounded the large building and jumped up the small flight of stairs that led to the porch and entrance of the Caster and his brother's home. Using one big paw, the Alpha found the door locked, the dead bolt protesting but holding against the weight he could put behind his attempt. He snarled, massive fangs bared as he listened to the red haired man, noting that while he could smell the other two, they were making not a sound.

Carefully but quickly, Nnoitra all but pushed his leader away from the thick metal door. Gripping the knob in one taloned hand, he twisted against the lock while he pushed his shoulder against the door. His massive weight combined with the strength of his wereform had the hinges of the door creaking, the metal bowing inward slightly before the dead bolt snapped and the door flew open to slam into the wall behind it, echoing through the hallway beyond.

Renji stood wide eyed but unshaken and steady before them, determined to protect the twins as they still writhed and panted on the floor behind him. One of Shiro's guns was in his hand, aimed toward the door but he let it drop as he realized who was breaking in and went back to Ichigo and Shiro's side.

Starrk veered into his wereform as he pushed passed Nnoitra's hulking body in the door way. Limping but ignoring it, he kneeled beside the red head and looked down at the twins with worry and confusion showing in his grey eyes. "What is happening to them?"

"I.." Renji shook his head, at a lose as what to tell the wolf. "I don't know...I think it has something to do with Ichigo's magic..."

As they spoke, the twins slowly began recovering as the crippling pain began ebbing once again. Ichigo's fingers linked with Shiro's as the near-albino began trying to steady himself enough to pull himself from the floor. Panting, Ichigo looked over at him, his eyes wide.

They climbed to their feet, hands still linked, followed by Starrk and Renji. The twins ignored the worry and confusion that showed openly on the wolf's and their friend's features. The link they had formed between themselves, strengthened and anchored by their third companion was alive and thrumming with sensations that could not have been caused by either the Caster, nor the Undead. The flavor it held had belonged to him, belonged to the creature they had lost and while neither understood what was going on any better than the onlookers did, they did know one thing; if he was truly dead, he wouldn't be in so much pain.

"M...move..." Shiro panted as he pushed between Renji and Starrk, all but dragging Ichigo with him. He didn't notice the fresh tears that stung at the backs of his eyes, nor did he hear the questions Renji tried to ask.

Ichigo spared the red head a glance, his own eyes filled with tears as well but he too pushed passed the wolf and Renji. Nothing would keep them there, nothing would keep them from finding him.

"He...he's...hurting..." Ichigo told Renji, his shaking tone full of disbelief and tinted with fear, for a dead creature could not feel pain and nothing seemed to make sense at the moment. The twins took off across the yard of their large home, hardly registering the cold or the snow. They darted passed the tree line and into the forest, knowing the way by heart. Renji followed behind them, Starrk and Nnoitra racing through the trees not far away as they watched and insured that whatever was going on, the humans would be safe.

The werepanther's long gone followers had been fierce in their loyalty and not even death had been able to take that from them. When Grimmjow had been sent to them, his life ended as theirs' had been, his followers, the thousands of men, women and children that had died in his name, had seen to it that he was welcomed and worshipped as he was always meant to be. While the mighty werepanther had rejoiced at being reunited with his followers once again, they hadn't been able to miss the sorrow that swirled in untamable blue eyes and had quickly found the source. It was ever a painful and traumatic event for a Fallen to regain his status as a deity.

Just as Ichigo and Shiro had felt Grimmjow's death through the link that bound them to the once-Fallen deidad, so too did they feel as he rose again, regaining the power he had once held and all that came with it.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you thought, pretty please~! <strong>


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